Real Life Princesses
by J Luc Pitard
Summary: A novella set in January of 1947. The Hellsing Organization has been engaged to assist the Royal family by solving a mystery. A real life fairy tale with princesses and monsters. Completed Story
1. Getting Ready

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and there could be kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947. It is set to answer the question presented in the manga "what relationship did Alucard have with the Queen as alluded to in their meeting?" We are post-Dawn and knowledge of that series is helpful, though not essential. There are no pairings per se, but you're free to read anything into this that you like.

**Chapter 1**

"Walter!" A wet hand groped from the shower, reaching for the towel that dangled from a distracted youth's hand, "Dammit! Give me my ruddy towel already."

"Hm?" the boy was leaning against the tiled wall. He looked up from his comic book to see the fumbling hand. "Oh, sorry," he said in a voice that indicated a complete lack of concern. Walter tossed the towel toward the bath, eyes back on the battle taking place on the pages. Grumbling issued forth along with the steam. "Big day today, boss?" he said by way of polite conversation.

"A proper valet does not call his superior 'boss.' Sounds like street trash," the towel draped man, still young himself at twenty five, stepped from the shower and admired himself in the full length mirror. He looked at the reflection of the boy behind him and shook his head. "Are my clothes pressed? I'm almost afraid to ask about my shoes."

"Yes and yes. Shined 'em last night," Walter mumbled as he turned another page with a half gloved hand. He protested mildly as his employer took the comic out of his hands, dripping water over the superheroes. "I was reading that!"

"Yes, but you were supposed to be assisting me," the man spoke gently, but there was steel in his blue eyes. Sir Arthur Hellsing thought of Walter as one part kid brother, one part servant and two parts cold hearted killer. The last half accounting for the patience he tried to always show the boy. Walter C. Dornez had become a ward of the state during the war and had a rough time of it until the Hellsings became aware of him. He'd been the enforcer for a small gang of orphans and his skill had quickly gotten him in real trouble. Arrested for killing by age twelve, the boy smoked and talked filth like a sailor. Lady Hellsing, Arthur's mother, insisted that Walter be taught a trade not just turned into an assassin. And so he had; he'd become a butler and manservant for Arthur. He did right well at it those first few years, but then peacetime and puberty struck. Arthur sighed quietly, now at seventeen the boy had become too full of himself and they locked horns as often as not. If they could live through these teen years, it should be fine. "Go see to my breakfast while I dress then. Oh, and Walter? See if he's awake. No rest for the wicked you know." He watched the boy sulk out the door before returning to his own reflection. Arthur's wild blond hair was temporarily tamed and his face clean shaven. Well, if he was about to go meet royalty, he was as presentable as he got.

Walter didn't literally drag his feet, but he took more time to fuss over the breakfast dishes than was strictly necessary. A smile graced his lips as he left the office where Arthur would be arriving in a few minutes. In his mind, he parodied his boss chiding him, "Walter, we're not rationing any more, you know. You can be more generous with the bacon. Where's my double cream?" Spiteful, but he laughed at the puffed up image in his mind. As he walked slowly down the hallway, Walter pulled a fag from behind his ear. There wasn't a hurry or anything, he thought as he stopped to have a smoke. Part of his mind acknowledged that he was delaying the inevitable. He'd have to go down to that cell in the dungeon. Along with the dread, a thrill always crept along his spine. Walter tracked a trio of maids walking up the hallway. Two of them were ancient, but there was one he sort of fancied and he felt his face flush as she neared. Like all of the house staff, they merely nodded their greetings to him and hurried on to their task, probably cleaning the master's bedroom. Talking occurred mainly in the kitchen after hours. Mind you, he thought with a large dose of drama, it's not like I'm ever off duty. One job ends and the other begins. He slept when he could, but rarely got more than four hours in a row.

If that bastard is sleeping, Walter decided, he would kick the damned box over! More likely he'd be awake and waiting in ambush. Just what he wanted, he rolled his eyes, more training! Walter snorted out a puff of smoke, looking much like a sullen dragon, if said dragon would be caught dead in the drab hues of a butler. Butler... what he really wanted was more action, more missions! He tensed as he neared the lower corridor. It had the smell of chemical cleaners striving hard to cover the stench of death. The house had been in the hands of the Hellsings only about fifty years, but the smell of decay was much older. Carfax Abbey, it had once been called. Now it was the place he called home. Well, except these creepy laboratories. These were Lord Alucard's home. Alucard didn't look it Walter knew, but he was said to be a very old vampire. He'd taken Walter on as a sort of protégé as soon as they met. Alucard said he didn't care about the menial house tasks Walter was assigned, he wanted to train him to slay the un-dead. Sometimes Alucard scared him- a movement from the edge of his vision gave Walter just enough warning! Wires sailed out of the half-gloves he wore, tearing an angry gash across the vampire's face. The maniac moved so fast that Walter had to leap to avoid being knocked down. Glimmers of blood against the white of Alucard's smiling face flashed and were gone into the inky darkness again. Walter braced himself, strings ready to whirl in whichever direction needed. His heart raced with the thrill of danger. More often than not, it was Walter's intense enjoyment of these games that scared him most.

"Good," the words were spoken on Walter's right side, almost into his ear. Walter didn't stop to think, he let his hands move on their own, slicing the air in front of the demon creature. There was a soft thud as a hand, writhing inside a white glove hit the floor beside him. The shadows seemed to lift and Alucard was smiling expectantly.

"Shall I give you a hand, old chap?" Walter smiled at his own pun as he bent to pick up the bloody thing. Alucard's other hand came crashing down on Walter's head and he crumpled to the floor.

"Old?" He hissed, "You idiot. You'll be lucky if you live to see twenty." Black shadows encircled his wrist, attaching his hand once again. Alucard picked up the butler and carried him into the room, settling him unceremoniously atop the closed casket. "I know dear, but it's just for a few minutes," he said to no one in particular.

As Walter opened his eyes, Alucard came into focus, toying with a machine gun. "Holy Christ!" He was pretty sure the vampire wouldn't shoot at him lest a stray bullet nick the only thing this vampire truly loved, his coffin. Walter rubbed his throbbing head. "You needn't have hit so hard."

Alucard put down his Tommy gun and crossed the room to ease the boy off his final domain. "Can you stand?" As Walter nodded, Alucard moved his hand to feel the lump that was developing on the back of the boy's head. It wasn't bad, but he hadn't meant to leave a mark. Walter stood still, allowing the vampire to look into his eyes with his crazy red ones and to touch his face. The pain in his head eased.

Alucard appreciated the amount of trust the child had in him. It was an odd friendship that had formed during the early days of their training together. That had saved the boy's life a few times as he knew that if the vampire told him to do something during a battle, no matter how counter intuitive, it was a good idea to do it. Trust, it must be. It pleased Alucard down to his core, to the blackened souls of the damned he cradled within him, that the boy had seen his true nature in action and still trusted him.

"Well, 'brothers in arms' indeed!" Arthur Hellsing stood in the doorway watching the strange scene unfold. Discomforting others was one of his specialities and he relished the blush on the young man's face.

"Oh stuff it," Walter said to cover his embarrassment, "not everyone's a pervert like you." He knocked Alucard's hand from his cheek, or rather Alucard allowed his hand to be knocked away. Walter wasn't such a fool to think he could keep the vampire from touching him if he desired. He'd felt the strength in those hands often enough, usually as they came from nowhere with a punch during sparring. The No Life King could look like anything, even a little girl, while keeping that inhuman strength.

"Oh ho, pervert?" Arthur raised his eyebrows at Walter's cheekiness, "but I'm not the one being fondled by a corpse, am I? Alucard, if you're ready? I have a car waiting for us." The tall vampire held his steady gaze for several seconds longer than needed, as if he would say something about the jibe, but perhaps thought better of it and nodded instead. "Good, let's go then. Walter, get back to your studies while we're gone."

"Where are you going? Can't I come?" he watched the two stop in the doorway. Hellsing turned back to face him. "I can be your valet or something," Walter tried.

"Mm, not this time; you're a bit too much like a frog going to meet a princess," he chuckled and even Alucard favoured his master with a small smile. A dark look returned to Walter's grey eyes. He hated being laughed at, especially by the two men he most respected.


	2. The Royal Lodge

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and there could be face cleaning. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 2**

"I could order you, of course," Arthur cast a sidelong glance at his vampire servant who sat relaxing next to him in the plush interior of the finest Bentley limousine that Hellsing owned. The vampire had hissed softly at the suggestion he adopt a different visage. "It would cut down on gossip is all," Arthur defended.

Alucard had some respect for Arthur Hellsing, the director of the Hellsing Organization. The man had guts and insight into the politics involved. His mother had been quite keen on getting the Hellsings insinuated with the right sorts and he'd picked up her abilities. With the right school friends, Arthur had been accepted as one of the youngest members of the Convention of Twelve and been invested in The Royal Order of Protestant Knights. From there, he had access to information and resources that only members of the prime minister's cabinet should know exist, much less possess. It could be argued, and had been from time to time by disgruntled old men, that the Knights who sat at the Convention's 'Round Table' were even more powerful than the government and less accountable. Frankly, Alucard liked it that way. There were fewer people to question his methods. "Tell her she's quite safe from me," he smiled an evil grin and was pleased to see Arthur move slightly toward the door, his pulse quickening. Alucard's respect was not boundless. It was hard to put his finger on what the boy was lacking really. He was ruthless and intelligent and they'd been advancing well in the occult research and experimentation begun under Arthur's short lived father, but then there was the immature lifestyle that Arthur adopted on the death of his mother. Yes, that was the real rub, Alucard decided.

"Tell her you're a poofter's more like!" Arthur joked, causing some nervous laughter to well inside his chest, although the vampire's reaction, or complete lack thereof, dampened it before it escaped. "Really, Alucard you dote on that boy much too much," Arthur's mother had been Walter's legal guardian, so it fell to Arthur to raise him. That responsibility was taken quite loosely and he'd started sending the boy off on major missions at age fourteen. He let Alucard do most of the training and was grateful that the vampire had taken a liking to the lad. One less thing to worry about; so long as Walter could survive Alucard's attempts to create the perfect "Angel of Death," he'd be fine. The best thing, Arthur felt, was to keep the boy busy. The rage bottled in his small frame was made worse by normal teenage angst and the less time he had to brood the better it would be for everyone. Arthur kept his eyes on the vampire to be sure he hadn't offended, but a grin broke out on the pale face.

"Perhaps eunuch would be the better choice?" The strange, falsetto voice was so incongruous coming from Alucard's mouth that they both laughed, Arthur protested the need, "Not a harem surely, my good man!" Alucard was equally pleased as the laughter relaxed his master. Sir Hellsing was as tense as a cat walking along the ring at a dog fight. Some of that tension eased, but Alucard sensed the man was on edge at the idea of meeting this princess. He watched the man take a bottle from the wet bar mounted in front of their seats and take a drink of 'liquid courage' as his master often said as a toast. A vague feeling gripped Alucard's stomach, or rather his torso. A stomach was unnecessary for a vampire, although the vestigial organs remained, able to pass small amounts of solids if needed. From that region though, unease was beginning. Alucard's right hand clenched and released the armrest along the door, not noticing its posh velvet cloth covering.

"Are you okay, old bean?" Arthur's voice held concern, but something else as well. Curiosity? He began watching the vampire very closely. The Midian waved away worry, but didn't answer. Arthur stretched across him to knock on the chair of the driver with the back of his hand, "Slowly now, pull over please, William. My friend isn't feeling well. Perhaps it's the movement of the car." His chauffeur nodded and they slowed their approach of the grounds.

Alucard seriously doubted he was suffering from motion sickness. No, this was something that could get inside every fiber of his being. Concentrating despite his discomfort, Alucard monitored his form's condition while trying to isolate the source of the problem. Heat, reminding him of the warmth that flowed from contact with human skin, had begun to creep along his veins, bringing with it another wave of nausea. The heat was increasing all over his body, "My blood," he spit through clenched fangs. Skin began to painfully pull away from muscles as the boiling liquid sought release.

"Yes, I imagine it is," Sir Hellsing commented calmly, tucking his bottle under his left arm, away from the Midian. "Your blood, being the most powerful father had... yes," he watched the structural integrity of the skin begin to give way in large cracks and a mist of red gas suddenly enveloped the interior of the car. "Oh dear, that won't do. Alucard, it is yours, call it back please. It won't do, us all looking like this," he resisted the temptation to try and wipe his face, splattered along with the rest of the car by the fine mist of blood. William, the driver was having less luck resisting. In fact, had he not pulled over, the car would've ended up in a row of hedges or worse! The man was screaming in fear, adding his voice to the snarling howl of pain the vampire had begun. "It should calm down soon," he shouted over them both, "but I think you can defeat it... now that you know." Arthur didn't dare move, for fear of setting a stain in his clothing. Of all the times, why didn't Walter think to pack a spare suit, he thought. Damnation! It isn't every day one meets the heiress presumptive.

Alucard spared a second to glare at his master, but swiftly his shadow self began to separate from the outer trapping of his appearance and absorb what he could of himself, once the blood was external, it cooled and condensed back into its liquid state, seeking the comfort of his body once more. The pain reduced as he decoded the simpler spells used to ward against the un-dead. Then the realization struck him that his young master had known this would happen. The git! On reflection, it had been a novel experience; Alucard tried to reduce his anger with the thought that at least he'd felt something. So much of his existence was reduced to thrill seeking, trying to find enemies that would test his new strengths. Pain is a feeling he thought, as in his mind he walked towards a large chest on a nondescript stone floor, and even pain was hard to come by these days. The container was ornate, looking out of place in such an empty, dull room. The symbols painted in delicate brown strokes began to glow red at his approach. With his white-gloved left hand, he gestured for the symbols. After a moment's hesitation, they obliged, flying up toward him as if they were going home. They swirled around his hand, pressing themselves against the glowing symbols on his gloves. Once they were absorbed Alucard could've left, but found himself admiring the large box. Whoever had crafted it had done a good job. It might have been the old gardener that wandered freely in and out of the mansion decades ago. He'd brushed the man's mind once, it was weak but he had solid tradesman skills. Certainly this would've been within the old man's abilities, but the ornamentation? Gold and brass filigreed shapes encircled the wood, that would've been applied later. Tricky, those Hellsings. Alucard kicked the chest, listening to the solid thunk before withdrawing his mind back into his calm and reconstituted body.

Sir Arthur Hellsing waited until the wild red eyes seemed to spin and refocus before saying, "Well done, Alucard. Bravo." The last of the blood stains were fading from the car, except for his poor driver. "Dear me," he said to Alucard, "William's gibbering again. Would you mind?" He ignored the hiss from his servant and sat back to have a drink and wait. Looking like the proud owner of a Cheltenham Gold Cup winner, he watched as Alucard calmed the crazed man. Before clearing his memory, Alucard cleared away the smears of blood that made William look like a poor imitation of a savage. The change in the man's face was obvious as he began to believe what Alucard told him.

The vampire settled back in his seat before turning to look out the darkened window. Once the car was again moving, he said, "You abuse my powers, Master." It was a simple observation, made without looking at his companion.

Arthur's nervousness returned. "Yes, well. You serve me, don't you," it more of a statement than question, but it was ignored in the arrival at the gates of the Royal Lodge in Windsor Park.

The morning light glittered beautifully off of the pale colored buildings. For the most part, the tasteful landscaping lay dormant, allowing the evergreens their moment to star. Alucard didn't find much to appreciate about the idyllic location. He opened a large umbrella as he exited the Bentley. An icy January wind heralded an equally chilly reception as the staff led them without explanation into a small back room. Arthur tried to sit with dignity, but ended up pacing. This was not a grand room, though the Lodge had those, of course. There were boxes in the open, evidence of the work involved in moving the royals into and out of their various houses. Evidence that was normally well hidden from respected guests. If it were not for this breach in protocol, Arthur could've admired it as a cozy little room, typical of any found in middle class homes across the isle. Instead, he fumed and paced, chewing on an unlit cigar. His mood lifted as a small head poked around the open doorway. "Hey there little fellow," Arthur said in an encouraging voice. The brown Terrier entered the room with a jaunty gait. After sniffing the man's outstretched hand, the dog turned her eyes to Alucard. The vampire had reclined against a sparsely decorated mantle piece and did not seem interested in the canine. The dog barked, whined and rolled to her back, paddling short legs and revealing a soft belly. It peed a thin stream of urine in submission, causing a gasp from behind the doorway and a young girl with light brown curls came running in from the hallway. "Stop that, Pearly! Stop! Oh I am sorry, excuse me," she bent down and tried to pick up the offending pooch, but the dog slipped from her grip to rub against Alucard's legs. "No! Stop bothering these men. Oh, sirs, I am sorry, I'll have someone move you to another room while this is cleaned, I am very sorry. Bad dog! Come here Pearly." The dog seemed intent on staying. "Oh," the girl said as her only options were to leave the dog or to go between the tall man's legs and pull her dog out. She looked up at his face. "Oh dear."

Alucard smiled. His brown eyes held a world of humor as they looked into hers. Though his canines were ragged, the mouth of teeth that gleamed at her were perfect by British standards. His clothes had likewise changed subtly to fit current fashion and Arthur released a breath he'd been holding since she entered, "Alucard, I would like you to meet Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret of York." At least someone, he thought, should remember protocol. "Your Highness, this is my servant, Alucard."

The girl turned away from her dog and looked up at Arthur, "You seem to have the best of me, sir. And you are?" She smiled a beautiful and friendly look as she straightened up and smoothed the front of her day dress rather than taking his offered hand. The princess was generally casual, but she had an automatic shame response as if she felt she was being reprimanded for it.

"Forgive me, I am Arthur Hellsing, of the Hellsing Organization and the Royal Order of Protestant Knights. We're here to meet with your sister."

"Oh, of course. Well, I'm sorry, I was just playing with Pearly and she, well, I'll let someone know you're here," she looked back at the dog, still nestled between Alucard's feet. She looked up at his pale face again. A touch flustered, she made to leave.

"Your dog, my Princess," Alucard said, giving the terrier a low whistled command. The bitch rose, whimpering and wagging her tail, but she walked up to the girl and allowed the princess to pick her up, both of them giving him curious looks as they left.

"I've told you, I don't want any of your tricks while we're here," Arthur hissed softly as he crossed the room. He wasn't walking toward the vampire so much as trying to pace while avoiding the dog piss on the carpet. "And why are we here?" As the vampire opened his mouth Arthur put up a hand, "That is rhetorical. I mean, I am a goddamn knight!"

"If your God has already damned you, why do you serve him?" The vampires features had relaxed into their normal state and though he spoke with a joking lilt, his red eyes had a glow to them. His master's unease irked him and he'd rather have Arthur arguing than pacing. Arthur had been at court without fear a decade before, when his father presented the vampire to the reluctant king in a secret affair that was purely to boost the organization's standing within the government. Arthur's mother had reported that he'd quite calmly enjoyed his investiture just a few years ago. Alcohol may have helped then of course, but why should a mere princess be worth more concern than a king?

Arthur paced as if he hadn't heard. He was considering running down the hall and assaulting the first servant he came across when another head poke around the door frame. "Hullo, Hellsing, Alucard!" Sir Hugh Islands' smiling face liked to split wide at his friend's discomfort, "Ha ha! We got you then, did we, Arthur?" To Arthur's stammered attempts at the word 'what' Islands answered, "Oh, I told her it would steam you up! Elizabeth had them tuck you away until my meeting finished. Come on, I'll take you. She's such a prankster."

Alucard held back the laugh that might have caused the men to come to blows. His master glared at the fellow knight, sputtering, "You! You never said-"

"Oh? I thought I told you I'd be here. Well, practically grew up on the grounds, didn't I? Cousins, you know on my father's side. Probably on my mother's as well, I'd have to look that up, though. I'm sure I told you. We go back, let me present you." They had no choice but to follow as Islands began walking, a spring noticeable in his step.

As they walked along the corridor, Alucard noted with approval the way the buildings of the Royal Lodge had been altered over the centuries. The structures spoke to him of ages gone by and of comfort absorbed by heads of state and their families. It was much nicer, in its own way, than Buckingham Palace where the king and queen were in residence. He touched tapestries and sculptures as they passed, a strange longing growing in his chest that he tried to dismiss as nostalgia.

"Right, I'll go in and you can come once you've been announced," Islands seemed to hesitate as Arthur handed his card to the servant standing outside a large oaken door. "Perhaps Alucard, it would be best if you waited until called for. Um, she may be more comfortable with that Arthur."

"Yes, fine. Fine," Hellsing was waffling between annoyance and awe. He watched his school chum go through the doorway with a hearty greeting. Arthur put out his cigar, "How do I look then, Alucard?" He saw the sharp look of surprise in the vampire's eyes, but he smiled as Alucard regarded him seriously and straightened Arthur's silk bow tie. "Thanks old man. We shan't be long." As the herald read his title out for the young woman just barely visible within, he walked through the doorway.


	3. Meeting Lilibet

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- there could be future kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 3**

Alucard relaxed his form into the armchair nearest the door. Likewise, his mind waited patiently on the edge of his master's, watching but not intruding on the proceedings. Due to his extreme state of agitation, Arthur was aware of nothing but the young woman in front of him. "Your Highness, you do me a great honour," he bowed low and waited. After a moment's pause, he dared peek to see her seated serenely and arching one eyebrow at Sir Islands.

"Pray rise, Sir Hellsing," her voice showed some of the amusement she felt at his too formal behavior. "What is this honour we do for you? Traditionally, it is your organization that assists my family, is it not?" She tilted her head and waited for the man to find his tongue again.

"Well, that is to say, whatever we can do for your Highness is always an honour," Arthur hoped he wasn't perspiring too much. Where was a nice gin mix when he needed one? Focus, he told himself. He stood stiffly, embarrassed that Islands should see him so uptight. He'd have words with the prat later.

"His Majesty speaks highly of your organization, Sir Hellsing," she paused as the man blushed. "No doubt you can understand why we want to avoid the criminal police?"

"Oh yes, no doubt. We are the right ones for the job." Arthur nodded, feeling like a right fool. Of course she wanted to talk of business and he was acting like this was a social call, he chided himself. Taking a deep breath, he offered, "I'll just call in my servant, we-"

"No!" The harshness of her voice surprised even her so she tried for a softer tone, "I'd like to discuss how you will be handling this before... To be frank, I have some concerns about your proposal."

"Oh?" Arthur was caught off guard, "but we received approval? What, what part of the plan causes concern?"

The princess frowned at him for a second, then stood, her tailored blue suit shed its wrinkles as she walked to a nearby desk. The Hellsing crest was visible on an envelope underneath a pile of paperwork. "Do you need to ask me that! Have you no idea? My father, yes- your king- may have given his approval, but he is not under this roof and he may not have read this as carefully as I. Do you seriously think we will have a... Do you think it is a good idea for royal blood to be near... with a... with one of them? I have received a thorough briefing about their nature, don't think I am protected from such knowledge. Indeed, those missing texts were part of my education."

A collective breath seemed to be drawn as both Hellsing and Islands filled in the word she couldn't say. At least Islands could empathize, could remember a day when he hadn't thought vampires real. Arthur, as the eldest of the two Hellsing boys, was brought in on the family business at an early age. He still had fond memories of the 'family pet' teaching him to target shoot and hunt, back before Arthur had faced any real enemies and well before he understood the true nature of Alucard. Richard Hellsing, younger than Arthur by twelve years and lacking in imagination, was protected from the realities of the family history. That was easy enough to handle now, as his brother was away for schooling and planned a military career, but it may get tricky in the years to come. No, Arthur was having great difficulties understanding her fear, but Alucard, as a hidden observer, understood it. He felt it intimately. In the hallway the herald, while never technically leaving his post outside the oaken door, began to move slowly away from the smiling man in the armchair.

Sir Islands moved to cut off Arthur's assurances, "Elizabeth, please be reasonable, we wouldn't have chosen this method if we didn't think it was the best way." The look he received in response was chilling.

"Do not patronize me, Hugh! There is no reason why I, a woman, should simply comply with the so-called 'greater intelligence' of men! Your plan boils down to using me as bait," she held up her hand, silencing both men who tried to speak. "No, I know you mean the books to be the lure, but am I not in greater danger?"

Arthur let his impulsive nature take him and crossed the room to stand next to her, "My Lady, I wouldn't wish you in any danger, but your personal lodgings have already been breached. Who is to say when or where the thief will strike next? It's better to have a powerful ally there to defend you."

Islands moved closer to the pair, but kept his mouth closed. He wouldn't have believed Hellsing capable of being persuasive until he saw the set line of her jaw quiver just a touch.

"Ally?" She looked into Arthur's eyes and Alucard felt for one second that she could see his own lurking there. "Is he really? How can you know?" She turned sharply on her heels, certain there was no answer for that, and strode back to her seat. "Your family believes him to be the remains of Vlad Dracula, Voivode of Wallachia, correct? Have you read your history, Sir Hellsing? Have you read of how the man would bide his time, gaining the trust and love of his captors, all the while keeping just his goals in mind? He was fixated on revenging his father and ruling as an absolute dictator!" She shuddered at the thought of the late world war. Had they taught the world a lesson, or would there always be such monsters? "He was imprisoned for long durations then as well. Both times his captors helped him fight his horrible wars. Why? From what I was able to read of the missing texts, he could be quite charming. Has he charmed you, Sir Hellsing?" The princess, satisfied that her point had been made but having no better plan to counter with, snapped her fingers. "You may call in your... ally."

Color had drained out of Arthur's face so completely that when Alucard came to stand next to his master, it was difficult for Islands to tell which one was the animated corpse. The demon was using some ruse to appear more human, something that he had never seen the creature bother to do before. Arthur Hellsing smoothed back his hair in a nervous gesture that had the opposite of the intended effect, making it seem to Islands that he was changing places with his servant whose jet black hair was trimmed short and behaving itself for a change. Class distinctions were also difficult to ascertain as Alucard held a certain regal air until he bowed, almost fully prostrating himself on one knee, before the crown princess.

Elizabeth ignored the demonstration, keeping her eyes on Hellsing, "You may instruct your servant to drop his pretense. I know what he is and unlike my father, I do not accept his act of fealty."

Color had flooded back into Arthur's face, causing a deep blush as Hellsing gave a kick to the back of Alucard's shoe, "You heard her, get up."

Alucard continued to look at the floor, "Your Highness, accept then this promise, I will not harm you. This I swear."

"I should think not! Hellsing, do make him behave. I would have him standing before my secretary arrives," she pushed a recessed button on the side of her desk. As she expected, the vampire moved with a liquid grace to stand next to the knights. He did look much like a living man; his mouth remained in a fixed, closed line and his brown eyes took in everything, missing no detail of the movements in her office as her personal secretary arrived. Ida Bromberger, her assistant for the past year, moved easily among the men, passing out the carbon copies she'd made of the theft details. Elizabeth watched the knights look at the reports, but the vampire ignored the papers in his hands. "Most of this you both know, but I thought to have it all written out might help. I am very busy. I can't be focused on this case and I am counting on you both to see this through. We need those books back and we need to crush the ones involved."

"Are you certain of that?" Alucard's voice, low and full of confidence, drew startled looks from around the room and one glare.

"I was quite certain, Sir Hellsing... you assured me, in writing, that your servant would not be noticed. That includes making unsolicited comments," Making a point of not looking at the vampire, she turned to her aide, "Thank you, Ida, you are excused." Her mind worked as she watched her assistant, a tall, thin woman some twenty years her elder, exit the room, Ignoring any advice, no matter how foul the bearer might be, smacked of folly, "Explain yourself, Midian."

"With all due respect," he inclined his head slightly, "I dare to say that you know the culprit." He smiled at the dramatic response. The princess stood in protest and both of the men beside him moved to her. At least Hellsing had the intelligence to know when to trust Alucard. Islands would have had him removed at once if Elizabeth hadn't moved to shush him.

"No, please, I would like to hear this. Come now, tell me why I would call on my knights and my secret organizations if I knew. Unless you are implicating yourself?"

"Not at all, your Highness. No, but this is, as they say, an inside job." Alucard felt the call of Arthur Hellsing in his mind. The blood bonds that tied the vampire's power to the Hellsing family also allowed a limited mental communication system. The ability didn't allow sounds to be exchanged so much as the essence of thoughts. The thought coming through to him at this moment was along the lines of "What the Bloody Hell do you think you're doing, you Flesh Eating Mongrel!" and Alucard almost laughed aloud. "The first theft was timed during a move. That way you wouldn't know it was missing for a few days and it may have been taken between protected residences. That crime could've been done by the vampire although, if it were me, I would've used a human accomplice to be safe. The second was most definitely by human hands."

"What are you saying?" The princess was still standing until gravity suddenly pulled her, in a most un-regal manner, down into her chair.

"I'm saying that one of your staff or family is assisting a powerful vampire. They may or may not be aware of it." He waited as the idea sunk in.

"How?" Islands asked.

"A vampire looks for a victim with certain weaknesses and exploits them," Alucard shrugged. He had done so, many times before his defeat by Van Helsing.

Islands still struggled with the mechanics of it, "Without biting?" he asked, but the princess seemed to understand it on a deeper level. "So it could be anyone?" she whispered. And she had just told the beast to crush them?

"With an exploitable mind," he corrected. "And with access to your personal world. That should limit the search." Alucard felt a delightful surge of emotions as he watched her absorb this. She has promise, he thought. There was a native intelligence and a will of iron behind her eyes. She did not retract her order. He stared hard at her and she did not look away; with some effort, he resisted the temptation to delve into her mind. She was, as next in line to the throne, his master's superior and should therefore be protected from such an invasion. With Abraham Van Helsing dead for years, Alucard had taken to interpreting the boundaries of their agreement as he saw fit, increasing the number of humans who could be considered prey for example, but he fully understood the concept of hierarchy conveying immunity from his powers.

A thousand questions filled her mind, but she filtered them down to one, "How do we start?" She would put up with whatever she had to in order to find the thief; the texts were horrifying and their dangerous knowledge had to be contained.

Alucard used his advantage to answer before Hellsing, "I will remain here when my master returns to Hellsing. Master, I think it wise to bring Walter back with you tomorrow. He can be given a position on her Royal Highness's staff, if you can spare him?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed, "We'll see what can be done, Servant." He turned to the princess, "Your Highness, we will put all of our resources into this." Well, this hadn't turned out quite like he'd hoped. What he'd truly hoped for while getting ready that morning was for her to be so grateful for his assistance that she'd throw herself at his feet. He'd known it was unlikely then and it seemed even more so now. Islands took him by the elbow after he'd bowed his farewell to her and together they walked to the door. Of course, if he solved the case with a minimum of bloodshed? Well what kept a man going except for hope?


	4. Getting to Work

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- here be kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 4**

He remained unformed throughout the day, following her as she tried to ignore him. The vampire's existence was a state secret so she couldn't confide in a soul, not that she would. For a very public figure, the crown princess had always treasured her privacy. Now to have a constant shadow? It was unnerving and hard to forget.

Alucard had placed the smallest slivers of his shadow at various points around the domicile, both to allow himself more freedom of movement, but also as trip wires. He wanted to know when the enemy tried to make contact with its "Renfield," as it were. Anyone close enough to the princess would be aware that Hellsing was involved and that should make his opponent nervous enough to come check out the level of the threat. How long would that take? Hours? Days? Though he had no true physical presence, the ooze below the floorboards shuddered to think that it could be weeks. Centipedes crawled here and there, black rats slunk about, and the very shadows watched the castle throughout the day. Alucard lost count of the inane activities: tennis matches watched, animals groomed, meals taken at leisure and the like. He was getting bored, but his master's orders were etched onto his psyche. He would remain hidden and observe until he could find and destroy their enemies. At least he could look forward to Walter's arrival in the morning. The boy might be a help, but his main goal in getting Walter here was to provide himself with a reason and safe location to coalesce.

After the evening meal, the princess retired to her private rooms, the only visitors were her sister and their former governess. Alucard ignored most of their nattering, but he did give a gentle nudge to get the old woman moving along.

"Well darling, I've got to get going," Martina Jones, 'Teeny' as the girls called her, said as she rose and stretched. "Are you coming, Margaret?"

Both girls rose, Elizabeth looking toward her writing desk and Margaret grabbing a stuffed animal. The younger girl hugged her sister. "I'm fifteen and she's still beastly about my bed time," she stage whispered.

"Beauty rest!" The governess corrected as she tapped her foot by the door. She rolled her 'r's, accentuating her speech to set a good example, "Princesses need their beauty rest." Her pride was evident as she looked at her current and former charges. There was a rustling of fabric and they were both gone down the hallway.

Alucard focused the bulk of his awareness on the woman who sighed as she sat at her writing desk, a dreamy look crossing her face. She pulled out a photo of a young navy man and poised her pen over a blank sheet of paper. Her face began to glow as a blush grew there. Moments passed with no words written. "Are you still here, monster?" she asked in a high voice, her eyes never leaving the picture, though they didn't see it anymore.

Without pulling his form from the ooze in the floorboards, Alucard answered, "Of course, your Highness."

"And you wouldn't consider leaving me, for just the next little while?"

"I cannot, your Highness. My master's directions were quite clear. I believe you frightened him," Alucard watched her look about to find the source of his voice, but as it filled the room around her, she settled with looking at the mantelpiece across from her.

"I know what you are; you are a vile creature," her eyelids fluttered and she looked at her hands, as if she might not entirely believe the words she spoke, but she went on, "my father told me of your existence and Provost Marten here at Eton made me study you as well."

"And?" Alucard's voice allowed some curiosity.

"And what?" she pushed the still blank paper in a semi circle in front of her. "You are a useful creature, in your own way."

His red eyes stared out from several surfaces around her, though her gaze was again unfocused on the picture of her beloved. "Ah, and is that praise?" he snorted as if suppressing a laugh, "To be useful? Is that a form of compliment, coming from you?" He was prodding her with the laugh in his voice. She smiled as she thought of a comeback, but the look froze on her face as she caught sight of red eyes in the fireplace. Quickly she scanned the room, finding his eyes reflected from every surface.

"Away! Go away, you fiend!" She hurled her crystal ink bottle toward the fireplace and was rewarded with a crash of ashes and black steam. No telltale orbs remained when her night servants fell over themselves to come and calm her.

Her letter remained unwritten as she circled the room before disrobing in the most discreet manner possible. How could she sleep knowing he was there, constantly staring at her? She turned her head sharply to try and catch a glimpse of him in the darkened room, but was relieved to find herself alone each time. His eyes had looked normal that morning, but she had no doubt that when she saw those glowing orbs, she'd seen right into his tormented soul. Half of the night was lost to these thoughts before she found solace in a dreamless sleep. As the morning light was let into her room, Elizabeth awoke. Her servants had laid out a casual red printed day dress since she didn't have meetings scheduled. She recalled that Hellsing would be arriving again to drop off more of his 'baggage.' Honestly, the man was so easy to read. She'd seen the look on his face countless times from other young noblemen. To them, she probably just looked like a little five foot four inch blob with a crown on top. Next to her must float another crown waiting for them. Jameson, her head of staff, would handle him she chuckled, her good humor revived by the sunlight. The past week had felt dreary, at least in the mornings. It was a good sign that the weather had broken, she thought. Hadn't she read that the light of the sun was one of the few vampire weaknesses?

Such a good mood called for good companions, so the princess phoned down to the kennels. "I'll be down to feed them this morning," she said as the handler, Mr. Woodruff answered.

"Of course, your Highness, we all missed you yeste'day, ma'am," his voice always reminded her of a large breed, like a mastiff or a Saint Bernard. He looked a bit dog like as well, though there she was reminded more of a hound, the sort with jowls, like a Bassett or some such. "Dogs all act'n funny."

"Early meetings, couldn't be helped," the sounds of the barking behind him blotted out his next words, but she knew they were just sympathetic nonsense. Not many in the household thought her job was glamorous or enviable. "But today we're back on schedule." Elizabeth could hardly wait to get down there.

A sleek black rat in the kennels finished gorging himself on dog food and smiled, his red eyes glinting as another day of watching began.

In the servant's quarters, as afternoon was moving into evening, a certain young man and his only bag stood outside a dorm like room, an ancient porter next to him intoning, "You're in here, Dornez." The brittle looking servant handed him a key and turned diffidently away, "Do you think you can find your way back? Good. You're due in the dining room in one hour." His footsteps echoed along the corridor as Walter opened the door.

For the first time in the past eight hours, Walter let himself relax. The room wasn't large, it was typical of any servant room really. No one seemed to think the underclasses needed anything more than a bed, chair, wardrobe and if you were lucky, a nightstand and lamp. As a teenager, he would like to differ. Still, it gave him a break from the stress of maintaining his mask. Walter had been excited about the chance... proud that Alucard asked specifically for him. It sounded like a bit of world class spying, plus he'd get to see the little princesses! Of course, they had grown up, just as he had, but in his mind, they would be just as he had seen in magazines while his family listened to the radio, Princess 'Lilibet' reading out the line, "When peace comes, remember it will be for us, the children of today, to make the world of tomorrow a better and happier place," Walter felt she was talking right at him. Had it only been six years ago? So much had changed.

Now all he felt was numb, literally as well as figuratively. He never thought he'd find a place where they worked harder than in the Hellsing household! As soon as Sir Hellsing handed Walter over to the head of the Royal staff, he was lost in a whirlwind of corrections, introductions and work. He was somehow supposed to remember all of it and behave, never speaking unless spoken to... and he'd have to answer to the Lodge staff as well as Arthur if he messed up. Joy! No word at all from Lord Alucard yet either. Walter fell back on the hard mattress. An hour to himself, then back to the grind for the Royals' meal and clean up. At least, he'd finally get to meet them. He smiled and made himself get back on his feet. Time to get cleaned up, he thought as he went to the door. He grabbed his shaving supplies and a small pitcher to bring some water back, locked the door and headed off for the lavatory. Locking the door was one of the things he'd learned back with the orphans. If a door has a lock, use it! As an able lock pick himself, he knew it couldn't keep stuff from disappearing, but it did slow down the rate. At Hellsing, he'd fallen out of the habit. The only thing in danger of being stolen there was his soul.

As he returned to his room, he felt his guard go up. Trained to trust his battle instincts, he put down his pitcher and held his hands ready as the lock released. Easing the door a crack, he peered inside. In the limited sight line he had, Walter noticed a blue and white bowl on the small table and the corner of what looked like a fine woolen rug on the foot of his bed. Not sure if a sigh of relief was in order, he held his breath and opened the door. Unless it was trick to pin him as a thief, it was, "Alucard! Take a form, show yourself."

The vampire appeared, relaxing on the bed, "Tapestries, I think. That's what this room needs."

Walter retrieved his water pitcher and closed the door as quickly as possible. "Put those back, before you get me in trouble!" His voice broke, giving it a comedic quality.

Alucard didn't seem to take note; he stretched himself across the small bed, "Not very comfortable, would you like a feather-"

"No!" Walter wasn't sure if he was being teased or not, but he was losing patience, "Look, I've got to get back to work. Get these things back where they belong!" Red eyes glared at him. Sometimes he was reminded of trying to stare down a snake, this was one of those times. Usually these staring contests did not turn out well for Walter. He swallowed audibly, "Um, let's not break anything, right?" His heart beat rapidly as he thought about the impression blood stained sheets would make on the cleaning crew. One of the laundresses had even winked at him. She was a bit older, but still cute. Walter wasn't very picky, or he didn't plan to be once he started dating. He'd seen the tarts Arthur brought home though. Even Walter thought there had to be some standards in life! He looked at the nice things Alucard had brought back, how would he explain them if he managed to get a girl to his room? My pet vampire's nesting instincts? A white gloved hand cuffed Walter solidly on the cheek and the youth staggered back, a drop of blood flying from his mouth. "Shite!"

"Never take your eyes off your opponent, Dornez!" Alucard chided him, his hand grabbing the youth's jaw and forcing him to maintain eye contact as he moved between the boy and the door. Red eyes opened along Alucard's chest, tracking the drop of blood hungrily as it landed on the Yuan dynasty bowl and slithered down the side. He smelled the red nectar welling in Walter's mouth, probably from biting his tongue on impact. It was only a week since Alucard had last eaten, but with the exertion of the last two days... and after all he reasoned, there were no rules against feeding from humans if it didn't hurt them. He drew the boy's face closer, fear growing in the gray eyes where he'd seen adolescent bravado just seconds before. "Intoxicating," Alucard murmured as he leaned in close for a taste.

Walter's eyes widened further, "The mission-" he squeaked through the mouthful of blood he was trying not to swallow. Walter bucked his head back as the cool tongue filled his mouth but Alucard's hand entwined in his hair and he was held in place by a steely grip on his right shoulder. Both men kept their eyes open; Walter hoped he could get through somehow to the vampire, but the red eyes watched his struggling through half lowered lids without concern. Walter's hands continued to push to no effect as the sounds of the beast filled his ears. Shame and humiliation built up within his chest, but one unwelcome emotion jumped the line and took first place. The erotic feeling of Alucard's almost prehensile tongue rhythmically rubbing his own, coaxing the flow of blood made Walter start to moan. His struggling ceased and his eyes slowly closed. A hot crimson darkness overwhelmed him while dark fantasies played in his mind.

The sound of Alucard's laugh, low and mocking, greeted Walter's returning senses. "You bastard!" he shouted, his voice sounding thick and awkward, his mouth dry. Walter tried to stand up from the chair the Midian had deposited him in, but gloved fingers flicked toward him and Walter was pushed backward. Alucard effectively blocked the door by leaning against it. His visage altered from the semi-formed shadow hound who had been watching the youth, back to his more human mask, "Now, about your mission..."

"Bollocks!" Walter looked toward his bed, anywhere but at the red eyes that held no shame. Alucard had gone too far! For years he'd let the creature tend his wounds in the field and there had been the one kiss... but that was years ago! Alucard had a different form then and it was easy to forget who and what was behind those whisper soft lips. But... so why? Walter closed his eyes, this was all too confusing.

"Bollocks indeed, my Angel of Death," agreed the vampire. "I want you to make note of every visitor to the crown princess's private chambers. Attend her if you can, but you must keep special note of the help. I have some idea who the notables are that come and go, but you must keep track of the names and activities of the staff." Alucard ignored the conflicted anger radiating from his teenage protégé. "Now, if you don't get going, you will be late for work."

Late? Walter's red face became even more splotchy as he tried to find words to fit his conflicted feelings. He would damn well find the words when he saw Hellsing! Tonight if he could! He'd complain straight to the wicked creature's master! That thought deflated his fervor... fat lot of good it would do, he grumbled to himself. Anger began to take over as Alucard faded away and wires flew toward the Cheshire grin floating in front of Walter's half gloved hands. The strings fell to the floor, having found no flesh to tear through. He retracted them just as he heard a knock, "Oy! Dornez, c'mon chap. Look sharp."

"Hang on," he called, cursing the lack of a mirror and opened the door, careful to exit without letting the man see the contraband in his room. Jameson, the head of the Royal staff, had come in person to collect him. The man was dressed impeccably, ready to serve at the Royal table and he inspected every inch of Walter. The man's eyes narrowed suddenly; Walter looked down. He cursed himself softly, "Um, I'll go change?" A small stain on his trousers testified to activities he'd rather not have to explain. Walter doubted anything the man could think up would be weirder than the truth.


	5. Talking with Princesses

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- there will be kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 5**

"Are you lost?" The girl's voice brought Walter to a full stop.

"Excuse me," Walter apologized to the girl sitting on a settee, in a nook off of the hallway. He hadn't seen her, which did not bode well for his career as a spy. The way she dangled her legs off the cushion and the tilt of her head reminded him of Alucard's appearance in Poland. Did all young girls have those habits? His experience with them was very limited, unfortunately. She looked to be about his age.

"You were counting the doorways, only I thought that meant you were lost," she said. She'd done her own appraisal of the lad before deciding to speak.

"No," he lied, "I was just heading for the dinner."

She smiled a superior grin, "Were you invited?" She laughed at his slightly hurt look. "Don't worry, I know you're a new hire here. You've got some time before we eat, why don't you sit?"

Walter wasn't sure how much of that was a request and how much an order, so he hesitated, but only for a moment. When a lovely lady asks you to stay, he reasoned, you ought to accommodate her. "Do you live here?" he smiled.

Her grin was so much like Alucard's that he inched slightly away from her as he sat. "Sometimes," she laughed. "Tell me about yourself. Do you have a name?"

"Oh, yes. I'm Walter C. Dornez, butler to... well, I'm here to train for a while, but I came from Sir Arthur Hellsing's estate."

"Walter, that's a nice name," she rushed on a bit, wanting to draw out the conversation before he ran off to work. "Where are you from originally? Family, that sort of thing?"

A pained look crossed his face before he spoke, "Oh, well. I don't talk about that." Encouraged by the sympathetic look on her face, he added, "London. Bloomsbury, if you really must know." It felt good to say that. It felt good to talk about it at all. Even when he'd first arrived at Hellsing, no one cared where he'd come from, just that he was there. Only Arthur seemed to have any past, Alucard wouldn't talk of his.

She giggled, "You don't sound like it." The boy looked down the hall, uncomfortable. The girl didn't want to scare him away, but she was so excited to have someone new to talk to that she had to stop herself from asking a million questions. Most people like to talk about themselves though, "And your family?"

He cleared his throat, "Dead, of course." He snuck a look from the corner of his eye to judge her reaction. She didn't seem put off nor did she seem at a loss for conversation.

"No one? Not even cousins and such?"

Walter sat in silence for a moment. Everyone he knew was gone and Lady Hellsing had done a search before accepting him, so he guessed there weren't. "During the bombings, one hit our house. I was away. We were scrapping, you know?"

"No," her eyes were wide, "but do go on."

"Well, me mates and I were a bit rough back then and it was after dinner, but before the curfew. We'd met up, a few boys looking for trouble." A touch of his past crept into the usually well trained voice. He tried to imagine how he'd worried his parents, those nights he'd leave and not sneak back until morning.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but how old were you? You don't look older than me," not that she looked her age thanks to her governess putting stupid bows in her hair that morning, she thought.

He gave her a little grin, "Seventeen now, but I wasn't that young, eleven I guess. The bigger lads let me hang around," his face got serious again. "Still, I was out was all. They were cleaning up, reading and the like."

"So you had a family? Like siblings?" She was caught up in the story now, imagining a little house on a working class street. A little family sitting cozy while one boy ran off to play. Then the horrible sound of engines tearing up the sky.

"Brother," he said, his voice cracking but not because of puberty, "older. 'e was ready to sign up." This was information he had never talked about before and she'd gotten it out of him within minutes. Now he couldn't stop it if he'd wanted to, "Played football and used to race me 'till I got too fast for him. I wanted to be just like 'im." Walter was staring at nothing, if he looked at her and she was emotional, he'd cry. If she wasn't sad, he'd be crushed. The safest place to look was nowhere. His quandary was solved when she reached for his hand. Their gloved fingers interlaced as tears formed in his eyes. The moment was broken by a voice shouting from a nearby doorway.

"Dornez! Begging your pardon Highness, is this boy bothering you?" The look on the waitress's face was professionally blank.

Walter's face paled and he pulled his hand from hers as fast as he could, rising with a bow, "Forgive me, ma'am. I... I didn't..." what? Realize? Mean to bother? His mind raced to find the words even while he wondered how he could have missed who she was. He had seen photos in the papers now and then, but to see her in real life? "Princess," he said as he backed away.

"To your station, sir," the older woman said, a subtle accent on the words sending the message that Walter had best be minding his station in life as well. He didn't need telling twice and Walter walked at top speed into the dining room, never daring to look back. A great first day so far, he grumbled.

Later that night in Princess Elizabeth's private room, the scene was relayed. "I wondered that she was so subdued at dinner, Jameson. Thank you for your report, but I don't think we'll be sending him back just yet," Princess Elizabeth was feeling almost giddy after receiving the evening mail. News of her sister's flirtation could do nothing to her mood. The trick now was just to get the man to leave so she could read her special letter, "Have the boy assigned to me tomorrow, I'll put him right. Good night, Jameson." No sooner had the butler walked toward her door than they heard a soft knocking. "Yes?"

"Woodruff, ma'am," the deep voice of the dog handler carried through the wood.

"Yes, come in," she called back.

The door opened and Jameson arranged himself behind her, as if he was a court adviser or some such. Her corgis flew from her lap and one bounced around the new man's legs. "Dukie, that's quite enough," she chided, but Woodruff ate up the attention. He clearly loved dogs more than people; she often felt that he merely put up with her family in order to keep working with the animals. The princess looked longingly at the plush dog bed that sat empty, next to her bed, "Mr. Woodruff? Would you mind if Dukie slept here tonight?" She hoped he wouldn't ask why.

"No tro'ble," he answered, though his face was questioning, "I'll just give 'em both 'walkies' and then bring 'im back in."

"Yes," she said distractedly, "that would be lovely." She looked over her shoulder at the silent butler, "Good night to you both, gentlemen," and was pleased when he seemed to take the hint. Her beloved dogs left with the handler, but at least she would sleep better once the older dog returned. Elizabeth turned back to the stack of letters. Her sense of joy turned sour in her mouth as she thought of the vampire watching her read the love letter. "Monster?" she called.

"Your Highness," Alucard answered, his voice filling the room again.

"What have you learned from all of your watching thus far?" She looked all around the room, fearing the appearance of crimson eyes. "Perhaps you should answer me in person? I don't want a repeat of last night."

A shadow deepened near the fireplace until she'd have sworn he'd been standing there all along. "Your doors, and those of your sisters have no locks on them. Why is that? Your parents rooms do."

Elizabeth seemed to stop and think, "I suppose it was so that we could be seen after as needed when we were children. I don't think anyone ever thought we'd need locks, really. Servants need to be able to come and go through the day to work, don't they?"

"How do they manage in the King and Queen's quarters?"

She had a ready answer for that, "Oh, that's done on a schedule and they can lock things up once it's been done. Oh, yes I see." Her hand reached for paper, pen and ink. She scratched out new orders, "Of course, the key will still need to be shared..."

"Also, your sister has feigned sleep in order to creep about; does she do that often?" Alucard had decided that the little princess wasn't under quite the same protection as the crown princess, but he wouldn't poke about in her mind until he had a firm reason to. The mind of a teenager was a dangerous place.

"She's a bit of a joker, but I don't know about that as a habit," she chewed the cover of her pen lightly. "Can you tell me where anyone is right now?"

"More or less," he allowed. He waited for her to ask him to prove it, but she was quiet for a few moments instead.

Elizabeth looked at her papers. Hellsing had been quite certain of his vampire's abilities and she had no reason to doubt him, but... "Tell me about the mental control involved," she challenged him, looking up into his brown eyes.

Alucard shrugged, "Involved in what?"

"You are watching the household as we chat, correct?" The princess was not used to talking with monsters, but she found him to be less egocentric than he had first appeared. She took his smile as assent, "How can you be in more than one place? I assume you know where my sister is?"

"She is heading toward the servants quarters," Alucard was delighted with the direction of the conversation, even as he tried to decide how much to reveal. Some abilities were automatic, others deliberate, but none were easy to explain.

"And," she thought for a second, "What about Jameson or Woodruff?"

"The dog man? Ah, well he has almost arrived at the pen for your stud," he gave the dog a mental pat. Alucard had expected more resistance from the castle's pets, but they were quite pleased to submit once he made his presence known. "Your servant is... ah, heading slowly toward the same goal as your sister." He chuckled darkly, but didn't share the joke.

She toyed with the edge of a letter on the top of her papers, "I don't suppose..."

"No," it didn't take mental powers for Alucard to know what she was wondering, "I am a vampire and a servant at that; my powers are limited. I cannot know what is happening half a world away." He watched her blush deepen, the contrast giving her youthful face a very pleasing aspect. He didn't consider her a beauty, but beauty was common enough. She had something even more important and rare. She would make a good queen someday, he thought.

"I didn't say..." she protested. Embarrassment changed into something more aggressive as it occurred to her that he must have read her mind, "You've other powers as well. Tell me, monster, how do you control people?" Gone was the pleasant banter. "How is that trick done?"

In keeping with the change, Alucard became most serious, "A vampire looks for weakness, mental instability or other flaws."

"But you said it could be anyone? No one here has such vulnerabilities!"

Alucard swallowed the smile that threatened. Such naivety, "Of course not, but with a strong vampire, even a small flaw can be manipulated. If those texts were my goal-"

"Have you read them?" she interrupted.

He stopped to consider, "No, not as such." Having been the victim of Van Helsing's research, he had never sought to read the resulting work. There were other contributors to the books, though none of the other vampires examined 'lived' afterward. Perhaps he should have been more curious when the old Dutchman was writing? The version she had was the only extant copy that he knew of. Once he retrieved the stolen books, Alucard planned to correct that mistake. His eyes traveled back to hers, the world looking odd without the usual red haze of blood lust, and he realized she'd been staring.

"You don't come off well," she said crisply. It was an understatement and it came across as intended. The princess was no coward; she didn't blink or try to look away when he stared down at her.

Half a building away a young man sat on his bed, his clothes disheveled and a cigarette hanging half forgotten from his lower lip. Curses were floating through his mind as he stared at the painting that had appeared on his wall. There was also an erotic sculpture crowding the china bowl on his small nightstand. At least the threatened tapestry hadn't made it. Walter almost jumped out of his skin when the soft knocking began. First he thought the vampire was asking to enter, perhaps to apologize but on reflection he realized that would never be. Alucard never knocked. "Who is it?" Walter called.

"Me," came the female voice. Walter nervously wondered if it was that woman from laundry but her shift ran later than his. He got up and opened the door just a sliver.

"Bugger me!" Walter closed the door as fast as he could, leaving the young princess looking very bemused in the hallway. He looked around the room at the pilfered artwork. Oh yes, he thought, this is bad on every level. He breathed the acrid smoke deep into his lungs, exhaled and pulled the fag out of his mouth. Opening the door again, he stuck his head out, "Sorry ma'am. How may I assist you?" He dreaded the next words from her mouth.

"For starters, let me in your room," she looked up and down the hallway, feeling very exposed. Her plan wasn't well thought out, but he was a part of it, she knew that. As he stammered how sorry he was but she couldn't possibly come in, she pushed past him. The princess took the cigarette from his hand, held out to stop her. She took a drag and handed it back, "I heard footsteps," she smiled sweetly. "You don't want a scandal do you?"

Walter's heart sank. Scandal? No, entering his room at night wouldn't possibly cause that! He rolled his eyes. "Perish the thought," he said flatly. There were footsteps heading around a corner and he closed the door, locking it behind her quickly.

Princess Margaret's gaze passed over every detail of his room. She looked to him questioningly and Walter shrugged, "Nicely appointed servants rooms, ma'am. My compliments. Hellsing doesn't have artwork in the rooms." He groaned inwardly as she zeroed in on the sculpture. A marble scene of indulgence, a satyr frolicking with two nearly naked women, one of whom clutched the creature's thigh and seeming to admire his manliness, while the other rode his back, feeding him grapes. She was giving him more than that, Walter judged, from the way the satyr was holding one breast like a wine sack. Twisted bastard, he thought, putting that by my bed. Walter blushed to see the princess pick it up and admire it closely.

"This is like the one in my father's study," she said with forced nonchalance, "only I'm not to know of it. Fancy putting that in one of these rooms?"

"Yes, fancy that. Good replica though," Walter's face lost all color, Alucard was swiping straight from the king! I'm doomed, he thought. A knock on the door reinforced that belief. He only needed to take one step in the small room to say, "Yes?" The last thing in the world he wanted was to open the door again.

"Dornez? Open up it's me, Jameson. Got some news for you, young man."

The princess at least seemed to understand the need for silence. He held up one hand and she nodded, barely breathing. "Um, I'm not really able to receive visitors, sir," he tried. "Not quite decent, sir."

Considering their last encounter, Jameson coughed politely, "Well, just so you are presentable tomorrow, you'll be working with Her Royal Highness as a staff runner. You are to be in her rooms for your assignment at seven o'clock sharp. Do you understand?"

Color had just begun to creep back into Walter's cheeks. Going from a certain death to working with the heiress presumptive took a few minutes to digest, "y, yes sir... I mean, yes I understand, sir." He leaned into the door, resting his head against the painted wood. Thank you, God. "Um, thank you sir. I'll be there, seven o'clock."

"Good lad, be sure you are. I'll be keeping an eye on you." The sound of footsteps heading away gave him such a sense of relief that he'd almost forgotten what he feared was going to get him in trouble... until she spoke, "Is he gone?"


	6. One Evening Together

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- there could be dancing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 6**

The stern look on Princess Elizabeth's face almost made Alucard laugh, but he knew it would set back the progress he'd made with her tonight. While he enjoyed her curiosity, he did not want to encourage a 'show and tell' aspect. "There are some things I simply can not explain, forgive me your Highness," he had moved across the room and was looking out the window, watching the activities of the night. Frost on the window told him the temperature had fallen, though he barely felt such changes.

Elizabeth turned back to the letter. She hated to leave things so negative between them; for a monster he was marvelous company, "One thing I remember reading is that you're a fan of music?" It pleased her to see a quick tightening in his shoulders indicating surprise. He didn't answer, but she felt sure he was smiling. She rose to the phonograph cabinet and sorted through her small collection. If she'd known there would be a test, she would've read those scary books more carefully. Van Helsing's sections were crammed with such odd minutia about his captive. She held up two recordings, "Rossini or Strauss?"

Alucard moved away from the window once he was certain that the dog handler outside had spotted him. "Either is fine," he purred happily. An idea struck him, "Do you waltz?" She recoiled somewhat, but nodded. "Good," he moved closer to the record player, plucking the seventy-eight record from her hand. "Allow me," he had a passing familiarity with the device, but all technology obeyed him... eventually. He held a gloved hand to her as music filled the room, but it took her several long minutes to make her decision.

Elizabeth debated the wisdom of touching a moving corpse. She was a future queen but... she was also a young woman and her body longed to swirl to the wonderful music. He held his hand out very patiently, neither demanding nor demurring. She remembered the last chance she'd had to dance, it was with her love. He was no secret to her family, though their engagement was. On the night they pledged their troth, they'd waltzed. Elizabeth thought of that night and blushed at what they had done after. How long ago that seemed now! In the end, her desire to dance won out over her disgust at the necessary intimacy with the creature. Wishing she'd left her gloves on, she took his hand and they moved to the open area of the room. No words were spoken as they took up positions, her right leg touching just below his left knee. Due to their height differences, he altered his hand holds and at last they began to move. Two leaders together wreak havoc on any dance floor, even one as small as her chamber. As the dance proceeded with difficulty, Alucard chalked it up to her discomfort with him, but the short waltz had served the purpose he'd wanted, several in fact. His external eyes watched as her personal secretary backed silently out of the anteroom. Drawing on rarely used social skills, he complimented her dancing, but quickly excused himself and vanished into the shadows.

The princess was left confused as the next song began, until her little corgi came running in. Oh, she realized, how polite of Alucard to escape. He'd helped her avoid an awkward situation. "Mr. Woodruff?"

The man came huffing a bit from the effort of running. "Ma'am," he gasped. "I thought... Where's the..." he couldn't bring himself to say 'man,' not to her face. The princess, alone with a strange man in her private chamber? At this time of night? He looked about, the question plain on his face. Elizabeth didn't see it as she moved to the floor, petting and playing with her dog, Dukie was spoiled and enjoyed the attention from the princess. As she seemed to be caught up in loving her elderly corgi, the handler excused himself, wiping perspiration from his face and fanning himself with his fur cap.

"Cheers, Mr. Woodruff. I have a busy day tomorrow, but I'll be down as I can," she assured him from the floor. Lovely music and the company of her dog was all she needed to get a good night's rest.

"G'night, ma'am." He exited quietly. Alucard watched with a hidden grin.

Outside in the pale moonlight, Walter paced the young girl, her energy level nearly matched his own, as she tore across the cold field. "Listen," he said for the third time, "we shouldn't be out here." He heard horses stamping and nickering in the nearby stable.

"Stop being such a nancy," she taunted. "It's just up a bit further, then we can go back." She jumped the fence surrounding the riding ring and he followed reluctantly. When they neared the center of the field, she walked behind a steeplechase jump and announced that they had arrived. She laid out the bed rug and gestured for him to lie down. Walter hesitated.

"Um," he began but wasn't sure where to go from there. Anyway, shouldn't she be the one to worry, outside alone with a man? She was so young and so pretty. He tried to push away those thoughts.

"Oh, I'm not trying to get fresh," she huffed as she lay down on her back. "Just look up!" She watched her breath float away as mist in the cool air.

His ego slightly hurt, Walter sat down cross legged and did as directed. There were no obstructions and he saw a depth of stars usually blotted out at Hellsing mansion by the lights of London. "Reminds me of the war," he said softly, "the blackouts." She rolled to her stomach and watched him. It was uncanny how much she reminded Walter of Alucard. Her eyes were easier to meet, however and didn't glow in the dark. He found himself looking at them instead of the stars.

"Was it worth it?" she asked.

"Sorry," he blinked, "worth what?"

"The war. We won, but was it worth it?" She looked up at the stars, feeling insignificant in the vast universe. So many stars, she thought, so many people dead.

Walter felt unqualified to tell a member of the royal family about the cost of war for the common man, nor what the cost of losing would have been, so he remained silent. He remembered his own small part in the war, the missions, all that he and Alucard had accomplished, the Nazi dreams they had smashed. He was deep in thought when he heard it. Though hardly a horseman, Walter was used to the sounds of the night and when he heard the horses beginning to panic in their pens, he stood, hands at the ready.

"What is-" she fell silent at the serious look on Walter's face and he signaled for her to stay still.

The movement in the trees outside the horse ring was barely noticeable, but it had Walter running at top speed. He leaped the fence easily and only barely made out the figure of a vampire. The Midian was moving through the tops of the trees, bounding almost silently on its way toward the living quarters. Walter's excited heart rate drew the vampire's attention and it stopped for a second, listening and sniffing. Walter held himself still, remembering all he could of Alucard's advice. He whipped his strings between his gloved hands, as if testing their tensile strength, "Hey ugly, over here!"

The vampire took the bait. Ugly was right, as it turned out; the creature must have been chosen for its thuggish appearance as much as its sexual purity. Appearances, as Alucard had often warned him, could be deceiving, but Walter didn't expect great genius from this thing. There was a heavy sound as it jumped from a branch to a patch of earth just feet away from Walter. It snarled, apparently hoping to frighten him to death. Walter stood his ground, strings at the ready as it began to pace a partial circle around him, tossing insults around, "Look at this little arsehole! What do you think you're doing, bloody bint?"

Walter stayed silent, trying to decide when to strike. He wasn't armed, except for his wires. Arthur had trounced the notion of him packing heat, as the Americans called it, while at the Royal Lodge. No problem, he would put his blessed wires against most other weapons. The vampire danced about, continuing to taunt. Though it wore a thin coat, Walter couldn't see any signs of guns on his enemy either. "C'mon nobhead, you're wasting my time," the vampire shouted, though he stayed wary of the wires Walter kept flailing about menacingly. Neither one found the opening they wanted, but the Midian tired of the dance first. Walter lunged to the left, spinning his strings to his right, hoping to ensnare it. He could barely see the beast due to its speed, but as it passed by, his wires were left slack. He'd only wounded the vampire at best.

In his experience, wounding one caused its whole focus to come crashing down on you and he was prepared for that. In the shade of the trees, he could see red blood staining a pale face as it stared at him with smoldering, angry eyes. For vampires, it must seem an affront to their immortality to be wounded, especially by barely visible thread. Walter braced his legs, crouching down for its attack. The beast snarled, but turned its back to him and began to trot away. For a few seconds, Walter stood there puzzled. He realized too late that it was heading toward the horses and... the riding ring. Putting all his strength into it, he gave chase.

The difficult thing, the reason everyone didn't use his weapon, was controlling the wires in flight. They could cut through flesh, steel, wood and bone, but only if used correctly. Used wrong, they could cut through the person trying to wield them. He kept his strings in motion, his hands and fingers directing them as they flew ahead of him. The vampire couldn't have seen it coming. From behind, the wires sailed over its head. Like walking into a clothesline, its head snapped back. Unlike a clothesline, his floss slid through the skin, neatly decapitating the creature before it reached the fence. The look on its face, staring up at Walter as it rolled away from its body, was one of surprise. The boy had seen it many times and each one gave him a rush. Power surged through his body like a drug. Walter grinned as the body spurt blood, then began its transformation back to the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Amen. He looked around, hoping the princess had seen him, if they weren't too far away? Maybe he ought to have let the creature get into the ring? Then he could have seen the fear in her eyes turn to joy as he vanquished her enemy. She'd be so grateful, maybe she would take his face in her smooth, soft hands and... Walter shook his head, clearing the fantasy.

He couldn't see her in the dark, but then they'd been behind a training jump and the blanket was a dark plaid. He jumped into the field and tried to retrace his steps, still seeing nothing. Panic set in as he continued his search. Walter was certain this was the spot. The grass was bent back, but she was nowhere. Was the vampire he'd killed a decoy? Had she been kidnapped? A bat circled above and in desperation he called to it, "Alucard!" Whether it was a real bat or not, it circled away. Walter scowled, his wires flashed and the poles supporting the steeplechase slid neatly forward on the angle he'd sliced. As they crashed at the boy's feet, a hand touched his shoulder briefly.

"Was that really necessary?" Alucard's voice held only amusement at the destruction.

Walter swirled, his weapons not retracted though he didn't cast them, yet. "The girl, Margaret, she's missing! You're supposed to be guarding them!"

Crimson eyes flashed with anger, "'Her Royal Highness' to a low born boy like you, Walter!" He paused, staring through Walter, "What was she doing out here?"

Walter blushed, of course the bastard knew. He'd been watching, hadn't he? "Just, do you know where she is?"

Alucard smiled, every fang gleaming in the pale light, "At this moment? She is entering the staff laundry room in hopes of remaining unseen on her way to her room." He cocked his head, his grin widening impossibly, "She is clutching the lovely rug I nicked for you and wondering why you left her."

Walter stood still, stunned, "But... but I... she..."

"Can't know," Alucard finished softly. He resisted the urge to touch the boy. Walter needed to deal with this, he believed, alone.

"The vampire," Walter began, his voice sounding bitter, "I killed it. Can we go now?" Hollow laughter answered him as Alucard's physical form melted away.

"That vampire?" his disembodied voice taunted. "That was a piece of trash. No, he was sent to make contact. Your killing it has cost us a valuable clue."

Walter walked back slowly. He barely noticed the new furniture in his room when he entered, nor did he wake later when a thick cotton blanket was laid over top of him, the whisper of a kiss grazing his sleeping face.


	7. The Morning After

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- occasional kissing (not here, though). Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 7**

For a second Arthur Hellsing thought it strange that the royal family would have a modernist portrait of a drunkard in the hallway of the Royal Lodge... until he moved and realized he was looking at his reflection. To his credit, it was an old mirror and some distortion was to be expected, but he had to admit to the truth in it. He turned to the man who stood next to him, looking only a touch better, "Islands, I'm not sure you're fit company for a princess today, maybe you should let me do the talking." He laughed at the flash of anger in the blurry eyed man.

"Rat bastard," Islands mumbled, but really couldn't say more. He'd been lured into partying with Hellsing, but once they were drinking together, he didn't exactly stand up for decency like he should have. Now his tongue felt like a woolly caterpillar stuck in library paste and his eyes burned. Who knew what diseases he would need testing for! He glowered, but Arthur only laughed. Indignation, as always, was wasted on his old school friend.

They quieted down when the princess's herald came out intoning, "She will see you now, gentlemen." He looked as if the last word was a bit of a stretch, but both men ignored him. Accustomed to such, he stood out of the way and let them enter her office.

Once again, Arthur felt nervousness rising within, but this time he had solid intelligence to share, "Your Highness," he bowed quickly. "I hope we find you well?" She rose to greet them with a smile. It was disconcerting for a girl younger than himself to have such composure, but she had been next in line for succession the last ten years. He guessed that might age a person. "Hellsing has received word that a vampire entered the grounds last night. It was disposed of before it reached any of the buildings."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, that would explain the damage to the riding ring her horse master had called about in a panic. She suspected something of the sort and wanted to ask the servant boy for details, but there were always other people around. Elizabeth was used to keeping secrets and the boy seemed similarly discreet. He'd been quiet and did as he was told. Cute, too... definitely her sister's type and therefore definitely trouble. Her smile was the result of thinking about her own secret, her fiancée, and how men like Hellsing would cringe when they heard. "Lovely," with the danger gone, she could again enjoy freedom from supernatural prying eyes. "Then you will collect your servants today?"

"Ah," Islands took the chance to speak. "Lilibet, it's not that easy."

She looked from one man to the other but the door behind her desk opened, keeping her from asking her next question. Her secretary entered, a quick frown on her face as she saw the disheveled knights. The princess looked at the papers she carried, "Yes, Ida?"

"Your Highness," the woman handed her a card and then stood next to her, prepared to wait for a reply. "It's from your father, ma'am."

All faces seemed to indicate sudden attention. Islands and Hellsing need not have bothered, Elizabeth thought, it was not about the case at hand. She walked to her desk and sat to read it, then smiled and nodded, "Please let His Majesty know that we will attend. Why don't you have the new boy take it down to the messengers? He is really quite fast. Send him in here when he returns." She watched Ida leave, having thrown a questioning glance between the princess and the men. Elizabeth didn't bother to answer the look. She detested gossip, no matter how well deserved it was in Sir Hellsing's case.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Islands hurried to complete his thought, "What I mean is, we've established that the vampire wasn't... the... it... oh dear, wasn't the one." His head swam and he barely reached a chair before swooning.

Arthur shifted apologetically from one foot to another before speaking, "What Sir Islands means is that the vampire killed last night was a servant. The thief is still at large." His hand ran nervously through his hair as Islands turned alternating shades of white and green, almost matching the wallpaper in the office.

Elizabeth scowled, her annoyance divided equally between their news and their behavior. Without a word she held out her dustbin to Hellsing. He looked surprised, almost offended before comprehending and placing it on Islands' lap. "I am not pleased by this," she said, looking at both men, "not at all."

Nothing was said for a few minutes except for the communion Islands had with the basket in front of him. When he was through, Hellsing offered him mint gum and the princess pulled a rope near the door. An older maid appeared from the doorway behind her, followed quickly by Walter. "Oh," he mouthed to Hellsing as he sussed up the situation. The maid scurried out with the bin and decorum was restored in the room.

Elizabeth stood, walking to the window and wishing she were outside. The men were uncomfortable, each for his own reason. At least that was some satisfaction. "Sir Hellsing," she began, but was interrupted almost immediately.

"Please, ma'am, call me Arthur," he smiled what he hoped would be a charming smile but she didn't look back to see it.

"Sir Hellsing," she stressed, turning to face him, "can we speak freely?"

Walter realized she was worried about his presence and made to leave the room but he was speared in place by a glare from his employer. "Young Walter here has intimate knowledge of the case at hand," Arthur's good mood slowly came back in proportion to Walter's embarrassment. It made him very curious to know what Alucard had left out of his report.

"Very well, I should start by saying that your servants are not as... difficult as I had expected and my compliments to your family on that," she could see surprise again gracing Hellsing's face. No doubt due to his hungover state she was sure, as he was said to be quite witty. "However, I would very much like to have my privacy again. What needs to be done to find this villain?" She walked back toward the men. Hellsing and Walter stood alongside Islands who still did not trust his knees enough to stand.

The three men looked one to the other before Arthur spoke, "I'll call my... forgive me your Highness. May I call my vampire servant?"

His consideration was appreciated and she favored him with a smile, "Of course." Without warning, the curtains slid shut and the light they had all grown accustomed to was gone. Wall lamps provided a weak replacement.

From the darkened corner opposite her, Alucard pulled his form. He wished Hellsing would've thought to bring him a bottle of something to snack on, but it was an understandable oversight. He greeted his royal hostess first, then turned to the men, "Master." It was not lost on him, nor on the others in the room, that Arthur took pride in his 'pet.' A smile curved the lips of the No Life King.

"Thank you, Servant. I know you must be tired," Arthur felt that he was back in his element. He'd spent his adult years sparring with this vampire. Sometimes he wondered if he preferred that to dealing with the living.

"Not at all, Master." In truth Alucard did long for the quiet comfort of his coffin, but he would manage fine for the time being. It was decided the sight of the large box in a palace would be too hard to explain. "Did you call me for pleasantries? There are events unfolding that I may be better suited for," he gave a polite mental nudge to the man.

"Oh, yes. Would you please explain to her Highness the events that transpired last night and how they effect our next moves?"

Walter blanched a touch, watching both the princess and the vampire as best he could. Alucard ignored everyone as he turned to the lady. "Your Highness," he began with all formality and received a searching look from her. "Last night a low level vampire was dispatched outside the horse arena. It was undoubtedly sent to scout out your new defenses and to make contact with their inside person."

Arthur stepped forward, feeling a bit put out for being ignored, "And why, Servant, did you kill it before it exposed the puppet? Hadn't we spoken of this very thing?"

"We did, Master. Forgive me." He tipped his head toward the princess with a smile, "It was concern for the Royal residents that caused a change in the plan." Lies and duplicity were second nature to him. Alucard felt no guilt for editing the events.

Arthur couldn't argue due to present company but he did file it away for later elaboration and punishment, "So how are we to expose and crush those involved?"

"Master, I am looking forward to finding this enemy! Her tactics are wonderful! Tonight she will strike again, though not directly herself. Buckingham Palace is still warded, is it not?" It was clear to Alucard that he'd rushed them. The humans were taking their time digesting what he said. Each one seemed to cling to a different sentence and needed to ask him about it at the same time.

"This is a the work of a woman?" Islands protested.

"What is happening tonight? An attack?" the princess asked.

"The palace?" Hellsing puzzled, "Why would you ask about that?"

Alucard smiled at each, his face a mask of humor that he did not feel. No, their ignorance annoyed him but he wouldn't let that show. How could they understand? To do so they would have to understand history deeper and longer than any mortal could. His face covered the dark thoughts that swirled within him as he decided how best to explain it to them. "Your Highness," he began, "what are your plans for the evening?"

Arthur and Islands tried to impose their views on propriety, but the princess silenced them by moving closer to the vampire, looking up into his pleasing face, "You already know? We will be dining with my parents tonight at the Palace. I only just returned the summons." She looked at him quizzically and he gave her a truer smile.

"Indeed and if it were I attempting to take your valuables, such an opportunity would seem tailor made." He swept his arm theatrically. "That the vampire last night was able to cross the grounds would've told me that the impenetrable barriers were down." Arthur gave him a lopsided smirk; they both knew that no other vampire could have survived the spells he had dismantled. "That it was later killed would tell me that there were still some defenses. I would expect those to be human in nature, but it assures me that you are aware of the danger. Hellsing's visits would confirm that, if I were obtaining information from the inside as well." He worried about the human tendency to fixate on one point, so he rushed on, "The important thing to note is that with the princesses leaving the grounds, the defenses must be split. To a vampire, that smells of vulnerability. Already my chance of success would have improved." The more he thought on it, the more excited he became for evening to come.

Arthur jumped in, "You will need to accompany the princesses then, at least to the barrier." He scowled as Alucard chuckled, shaking his dark hair.

"Weren't you listening, Master?"

The rebuke stung Arthur and he looked to Islands for support, but found none. It wasn't that Islands understood the vampire any better, it was that his head was in his hands as he tried to keep a headache from splitting it in two. The princess was beginning to pace and Walter was trying to keep a smirk from his face. Hellsing turned back to his servant, "But we can't leave them vulnerable in case your theory is false."

"Of course, Master. Walter will accompany them to the Palace. There they will stay the night and he will escort them back in the morning," As Alucard finished, Walter's smirk was gone and an open mouthed gaping had taken its place. "He can handle anything for a time and if there is a full assault along the way, I will quickly join him. But there won't be, Master."

Arthur longed for a cigar and a stiff drink but he didn't dare, not in her office. Instead he indulged in further destroying his hairstyle and pacing, "You are quite certain about this, Alucard?" The look on the vampire's face was similar to the one he'd seen across a chess board millions of times, confident with a hint of malice. The only difference being that this Alucard was still sporting brown eyes, a more up to date wardrobe and a vaguely healthy glow on his pale skin. "Very well." He turned around to where Walter was wishing he could blend with the walls as successfully as Islands, "Dornez! You will go with them-" Here he was interrupted first by Alucard's mental shout, then by the door opening.

An older woman entered, followed by the younger princess. "Forgive us, your Highness," the governess said, "but we just received the news from Ida and wanted to discuss the logistics with you."

"No problem at all, Teeny. I would like you to meet Sir Arthur Hellsing and his servants, you know Hugh of course," she waved a hand loosely in the direction of the still seated knight. Protocol demanded he stand, but he hoped to be forgiven this once. "Gentlemen, this is my governess, Martina. And I believe you all know my sister, Margaret." The room was not small, but it was beginning to feel a bit stuffy with the windows covered. Walter's back was hugging the wall and he was wished he could be swallowed whole by it.

Princess Margaret willed her gaze to slide over Walter without seeing him. She focused on the strange man she'd met the other day, "Sir, however did you learn to work with dogs? Pearly has been so well behaved since she met you."

He smiled and bowed low but did not answer her question, instead asking, "My dear Princess you look pale, did you not sleep well?"

Her eyes widened and she answered a bit more forcefully than she expected, "Quite! Thank you, I'm... fine." She turned quickly to her sister, "I am very much looking forward to the party tonight. When shall we leave here?"

"Directly after lunch. I expect that will give us enough time to get dressed when we arrive." Considering her sister's crush on a certain servant, a wicked thought occurred to her. "Oh, and Margaret, Sir Hellsing has offered his boy to come along as a sort of body guard. I know I'll feel safer. Isn't that nice of him?" She watched her sister's reaction closely. The young girl first snuck a look to where Walter stood. He tried to keep his face blank, but his eyes were pleading with her for understanding. Elizabeth knew her sister well enough to see anger, shame and rejection cross her face before the girl was able to mask her feelings and she wondered what had changed?

"How nice of him," Margaret said, clearly not enthusiastic. She turned to Alucard, "Do you know, I think you might be right about me. I'm not feeling all that well. Perhaps I shall stay home tonight." She threw one last dagger filled look at Walter before turning to her governess and leading her by the arm.

Teeny seemed shocked. "Well, if your Highness is ill, I should stay here as well." As they exited, all could hear the princess assuring her teacher that she would manage fine alone.

"Well, isn't that interesting?" Elizabeth looked to Hellsing and they shared an almost sly smile before turning their heads to Walter. He again failed to become invisible, despite his most fervent desires. Instead he tried for sulking and shrugged his shoulders.

Alucard gave a short, unnecessary cough, "Your Highness? Master? Perhaps we should discuss the case at hand before we are interrupted again?"

"Yes," Hellsing said, a calculating tone in his voice, "well, if there's an event tonight, I wonder if you would feel better if I attended as well, Your Highness?"

Islands looked up suddenly and immediately regretted it, "You?" he managed.

Elizabeth laughed, her mood greatly improved by the distractions. She looked to the vampire who gave no indication of his thought on the matter. "It can be arranged, but this is a small gathering. I fear you will be bored."

Hellsing, eager to please, pressed his case, "With your Highness in attendance, one can never be bored."

Elizabeth was able to contain her desire to roll her eyes at his clumsy flattery better than some others in the room. She turned to Islands, "Cousin, will you not come as well and save me from this fool?" Arthur joined in the laughter.

"If my head remains intact, I will," Sir Islands smiled, giving Arthur a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps we'd best ride in my car, though. No bar in it," he paused for a minute, looking around. "Where did your... Alucard go?"

The princess's secretary entered just as Hellsing crossed the room to open the curtains. She seemed to note the change in the atmosphere as well as the changes in lighting, "My Lady? Here are your news reports. Your next meeting is waiting in the Hickling Room, do you know how much longer...?"

"Oh Ida, dear. Yes, please give me just five more minutes. Also, we'll need two more rooms at the Palace tonight. I assume you've heard about Margaret?" She nodded as the older woman did, "Yes, good. You can send Walter here with the changes." She scribbled a note and handed it to the frowning woman. "And now if you would all pardon me? I have some reading I need to do." Regaining the serious tone she'd had at the beginning of the meeting, she moved to her desk and ignored the social pleasantries coming from Islands and Hellsing. The boy exited stiffly with her secretary and once alone she dropped the papers on her desk unread. "Monster? Are you still here?"

"Of course," came the expected response.

"Good," she paused as she composed her question. "Are you absolutely certain of this? This attack on the Lodge? Tonight?"

The disembodied voice hung in the air, a hint of a hiss at the tail, "Yes."

Elizabeth said nothing as she looked out her window. She paced back to her desk, "Do you take orders from me?"

"I have sworn fealty to your father and am bound by my master, so yes, I can take orders from you."

"I have little respect for the oath you gave, you're aware of that?" Elizabeth wished he would materialize, but somehow felt bolder when she didn't have to look at him.

"Yes."

"But under your agreement with Hellsing, you must complete missions and follow orders, yes? That I can respect," With a creature such as he, semantics had to be precise, she knew that from her readings. He said nothing, so she continued, "I would order you to protect her. Protect my sister at all costs tonight!"

"All costs?" If he had been corporeal, she would have seen and been warned by the size of his smile, "All?"

"Yes." A shiver ran down her spine as she bent to pick up her papers. It reminded her of a saying the older people have about someone walking over your grave. "Alucard? Did you hear me? Will you protect her?"

"At all costs, your Highness."


	8. The Evening's Festivities

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- licking. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 8**

A thin strip of metal scraped against the door jamb in a manner that spoke of some practice. It wiggled just so until finally the lock eased open. The girl was pleased, she didn't want to destroy any more of her hair pins. The jimmy she made worked better by simply forcing the padlock. The door was made of oak so old and strong it seemed to be rock; its locks weren't. As quietly as she could, she pushed into the dark study. The door closed behind her with a bang. Her heart leaped into her throat, but she stifled a cry. Standing very still, she waited to make certain no one would come check out the noise. Once she was sure, she walked ahead exactly fifteen steps and slid her hands over the desk until she felt the pull cord for the lamp. She took off her robe, settling it on the wooden chair. Even if the light was dim, her nerves calmed when she could see again. The large room was well appointed with leather furniture, tables and floor to ceiling bookcases. It smelled of cigar smoke, a hint of alcohol and dust of the sort that settles on rare, first edition works. She ran her fingers along the thick leather spines before she came to the book she'd wanted.

"Such a macabre choice for a young woman," the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Margaret stood frozen with fear, not even daring to look for the source until silence fell. The shadows in the room danced about, as if a candle had been caught by the wind.

"Who... who's there?" she spun about, squinting to see.

She heard clinking in the darkness. "Would you care for a drink, Princess?" A small crystal glass of Scotch Whiskey held in a white glove was the first she saw of the man. "This is why you come here, isn't it? One of the reasons," he corrected.

"Oh," she exhaled, whispering, "it's you. You're that man from Sir Hellsing's. Mr. Card is it?" She startled when he laughed out loud.

He waved his free hand dismissively as she took the offered drink, "You needn't worry about anyone coming in here, the castle is in dreamland; even the night servants are sleeping soundly. You are quite safe." He smiled in a way that made her stomach clench. "Please, have a seat," he gestured to the couch. She tentatively sipped the harsh liquor before moving.

"What... why are you here, Mr. Card?" Margaret moved to the couch, circling him slightly to avoid getting too close before sitting on the far side. He walked toward her, but didn't sit.

"I'm here to protect you Princess, by special arrangement with your sister," he looked down at her, watching her absorb his words.

"But, why are you here? In my father's study?" she looked about as if seeking something.

"The sculpture?" he raised an eyebrow and gestured. "It's there on the shelf as always."

She had been looking for it, but jerked her head back to him, "How did you know?" Her voice was full of suspicion. This room was one of her father's most private places and the art he now pointed to was just one of many risqué works, but it was the exact one she'd seen last night.

"It is my job to know such things," he smirked. "But you," he pointed now at her, "are here without permission." She took another sip, watching him for any indication of what he would do. Alucard folded his hands behind his back and returned to the bookcase she had been at. "You seem to make a habit of sneaking about, Princess." One finger traced the book bindings in imitation of her earlier gesture. "Little girls shouldn't read such drivel," he turned his back to the books, crossing the room to where she sat. Alucard perched on the arm of the sofa and looked down at her, "But we both know you are no little girl, are you?"

She blushed a deep scarlet that indicated she understood. For a year she'd been aware of her body, aware that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was clumsy at first but knew what she wanted now. Still, she drew back as he glided onto the cushion next to her. Her head moved side to side, though she wasn't exactly sure what she was rejecting. Her eyes fell to her glass and she took a deeper drink before trying to meet his gaze. Between the alcohol and the leer in his eyes, the lovely comeback she'd thought of changed to a barely articulate, "So?"

"Cigarette?" he offered her an open pack and lit the one she chose with a gold lighter. She gave him a suspicious look again and he leaned away from her, resting his arm on the back of the sofa and watching her indulge in her vices.

"Thank you," she mumbled. To calm her nerves, she blew a long stream of smoke out from her first drag. She watched it curl and twist in the dim light. It was undisturbed by breath from her companion. "You know, I think I know what you are," she expected him to respond but he merely waited, his face in a relaxed smile. She grew uncomfortable under his gaze so she blundered on, "You're like one of them, from the books." If anything, he looked happier than before, only quirking an eyebrow in response. She looked away, noticing for the first time the spaces on the shelves where occult texts belonged.

"You've read them? Of course you have. The forbidden tastes the sweetest, does it not?" Something in his voice made her look back at him. Fear gripped her at the sight, her scream testing the theory about servants sleeping at their posts. If anything, it made his red eyes dance more to hear it. The girl dropped her drink and cigarette simultaneously as she tried to scramble for the door. Another scream erupted as she felt her left arm dragged backwards in an iron grip. "You're free to go, Princess... but not just yet. I need you to do a little favor for me." He spun her to face his fanged smile, twisting her arm carefully to avoid breakage. It may bruise but he had to remember not to damage her... much. Pulling the arm that he controlled upwards, he brushed back the sleeve of her nightgown and raised her wrist to his lips. "I can drop pretenses around a sophisticated woman such as yourself," he ran the tip of his tongue from her palm to her elbow, tasting the heat and the vulnerability underneath, "Lovely."

She shuddered. It was the most sensual feeling she'd ever known, setting her mind and body against one another. "Stop," she whispered with an inflection that turned the word into a question. When he did as bidden, she sighed, her arm still upraised in his grip. His eyes were the brightest lights in the room and she found herself staring deep into them. Counter to her first impression, they were not solely red. There were threads of black within them and they seemed to pulse with shades from orange to crimson as they writhed about. Pain and ecstasy balanced in equal measure behind his long lashes. She'd heard the eyes were gateways to the soul but his seemed to be teeming. There was an aching in her chest to join him, to lay her throat bare to his fangs before he broke the connection between them, shaking her gently.

"I have work for you, Princess," he purred, pulling her tiny frame to his without resistance. Alucard buried his nose in her hair and indulged in her scent. "You will do it, when I ask. Do you understand?" She nodded her head, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his white shirt. "There is only so long that I can resist temptation, in that we are alike, no?" She mumbled assent as she toyed with a pearl button. He sighed, "Go now, the directions are in your mind. You will find what you need there. Do not fail me." He watched her go with a mixture of emotions; his body tingling from the close contact. Two youths under his complete control within two days? Alucard shook his head, apparently his willpower was getting stronger.

In the beautiful White Drawing Room of Buckingham Palace, Walter stifled a yawn. The "party" seemed interminable; he thought it would end when the King and Queen had retired an hour ago. Walter was on his best behavior even if he wasn't directly visible to the guests. From the side, he watched to see if Hellsing or Islands needed anything. Both had friendly yet blank looks on their faces as they listened to some relation of the royal family recount a childhood memory. He looked across the room to see if the princess was suffering as well, but she seemed enraptured by the storytelling. Walter settled back to wait.

Princess Elizabeth loved this part of family gatherings, the older family members would get lost in their tales and she'd compare them to her history lessons for a better picture of the past. When historians wrote of the wars, they lost the stories of the real people involved. Her father, she feared, might forever be remembered for appeasement, if not for the stories she and others could pass along about his concern for the plight of the people or his strong stance once the war began. You have to be careful, she thought. Would anyone remember that he'd finally allowed her to join the cause? She took classes with everyone else, could drive and fix a truck and she was fiercely proud of that. Would those stories only be passed about at parties like these? Of course, a tiny part of her was also enjoying her guests' discomfort. Apparently the word 'party' held a different meaning for the head of the Hellsing Organization, though he was trying to be a good egg about it. She took her eyes off of her aunt long enough to see Arthur and Hugh trade elbow jabs. Such boys, she smiled and turned back to her aunt for the final line, "Wrecked him? It damned near killed him!" Polite laughs all around for that old chestnut.

"Thank you Aunt Mary," Elizabeth took over as hostess whenever her mother exited and she felt duty bound to steer the group toward some conclusion. "Perhaps the men would like to take some air while we set up coffee?" At her word, a battalion of servants began to clear the drinking glasses and position tables at prearranged locations. The guests stretched and moved slowly about. She herded the gentlemen toward nearby balconies. The night was brisk, but not as cold as it had been. She moved toward Islands and Hellsing, "Are you enjoying yourselves?"

Arthur was saved from having to lie by a message, as clear as day, from his servant. His face went slack for a moment before he grabbed at her arm. Shock registered on her face at the physical contact, but he didn't see it, "He says it's begun." Hellsing's eyes met the princess's and both were quite serious.

"Is there damage?" Islands interjected quietly.

Hellsing turned to look at him, blinking before answering, "No, not yet. He's playing with them... Dammit!" The looks from Elizabeth and several guests around them reminded him where he was and Arthur tried to keep his voice down. "He says to pass along that he's taken precautions. I'm not sure what that means, but I try not to bother him while he's in action, so I'm afraid we'll need to wait and see." Walter appeared behind Hellsing. Arthur smiled when he noticed the boy. Stealth was important for both of Walter's professions and Alucard had worked hard with the boy. It was good to see that finally paying off.

"Should I go back, sir?" Walter noted a light dawn in the princess's eye as well, so he was not surprised when she added her desire to return to the Royal Lodge.

Hellsing put his foot down, as discreetly as possible, given that they were still in a crowd of mainly older nobility, "Absolutely not. To do so would jeopardize the entire plan. Your Highness, you need to understand that Alucard is a... well he's quite special. We would only distract him and that could have disastrous results." He tried another tack, "Right now he is focused on killing. If you or I were there, he would have to protect us, it's in his bindings to do so. That would make him a less effective offensive weapon. Does this make any sense?" He racked his brain for a war analogy, but came up blank.

Please let him remember to be protective of her, Elizabeth prayed. If her sister were wise, she'd be in bed... but her sister never had to be wise. She was allowed to be the frivolous one, the baby. The crown princess had often wished she'd been the youngest, let Margaret bear the weight of the world and Elizabeth could play the day away. She closed her eyes for a second but she knew that reality was what it was. Someday, hopefully many decades in the future, she would be queen. "Then we'll let him do his job without worry for us," she said.

Walter knew that protective concern did not extend to him. Alucard had left Walter to fend for himself many times. To ease his pride he liked to think the vampire had a large amount of faith in Walter's abilities, but it probably boiled down to the creature feeling that Walter was expendable. Would Alucard even notice Walter's death? He doubted it. By chewing on the inside of his cheek, he kept his face blank. Running through his mind was the thought that he was nothing more than a toy to the vampire, a plaything. The pain of that thought manifested physically as he bit too hard and the tang of blood brought back the events of the previous day. He held the blood in his mouth but finally had to swallow the small amount of metallic liquid. Walter didn't know what to make of anything lately. He stepped back, moving away from the group as another guest came up to chide them for dominating Elizabeth's time. Walter was grateful for the anonymity that came from being a servant as he moved out of sight, brushing away tears.

Princess Elizabeth did not appreciate the timing of the interruption as she was hoping Arthur would keep giving them news reports through his unusual link with his monster, but she put on her hostess smile and walked through the guests with her aunt. "Isn't that the Hellsing boy?" her aunt asked in a low voice. When the princess nodded the older woman continued, "That playboy doesn't think he's courting you, does he?" Her whispered laugh irked Elizabeth, who only days ago would've joined in.

"Arthur Hellsing," she said, pausing for effect, "is a friend of mine." Seeing that it had the chastising impact she'd hoped for, Elizabeth moved on with a truer smile.


	9. Late Night Bloodbath

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- occasional arm licking. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 9**

The expedient way to handle the mess was to kill the three vampires Alucard had identified as quality un-dead, then move on and take out the five time wasters. They'd brought along four ghouls, probably just to push through human guards, but he wouldn't need to kill those at all if he first took out the controlling vampires. Of course, he grinned, he wasn't known for being expedient. The footfall of his boots was loud enough to draw interest from the limited intelligence of the ghouls and they slowly swung about to face him. Ghouls were detritus created by vampires from impure victims. The dead became meat puppets, clumsy and without motivation except to infect and kill others. Alucard hated them. He'd once seen making ghouls as a way of keeping mortals he liked with him in his un-life, but no matter what he did, they were such abominations that he had to kill them all over again. That had been centuries ago, yet each affront to nature reminded him of that disappointment. He ran as if fleeing them, his smile revealing the lie as he led them toward a small pasture. Finding the place he wanted to use as his killing field, he ground his heels, spinning in place.

With barely a thought, his machine gun rested in his hands. It was overkill for the situation, but it was his favorite gun... more power, faster delivery rate than a simple rifle. He could tear through any enemy he encountered without them, but guns amused him and there were none who dared argue the point. Arthur occasionally wished he would choose a gun that could be silenced, but where was the fun in that? The spread of blessed bullets looked random, but as the corpses returned to the earth, each carried two in the head and two more in the chest. No bullets wasted tonight. He smiled, nostrils flaring slightly as he inhaled the gunpowder. It was shaping up to be a good night.

Princess Margaret wandered through the Lodge in a fog. The place she'd thought of as her main home was now something out of a fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty's castle. There weren't many house staff running about at night, but the silence in the manor tonight was eerie. She walked like a woman with a mission, as if she understood everything. Was this love? This walking on air feeling? She'd wanted the boy last night... no, that was still too painful to think about, the way he ran away from her... the way he called her ugly. Margaret shook her head. Stupid kid. She had a man now; well not really a man, but that made it all the better. He was a divine monster, her avenging angel! She smiled to herself, not looking where she was going until she heard voices.

"...talking about that bitch! Give me a hand here," a male voice.

"Jesus, Jamie, what's in th' bag?"

She could recognize Woodruff's accent anywhere. The princess wanted to stay concealed to avoid questions, but Alucard's insistent voice was telling her to move. By rounding the corner, she could see both men and they her. Jameson and the dog trainer were caught off guard, their hands together pulling a large duffel bag. Dumbfounded for a moment, they stared before shouting at her fleeing form. Her blue nightgown was her favorite, but as it clung to her pumping legs, she wished she'd chosen her pajamas, no matter how childish they looked. Margaret ran on, her body guiding her down a long staircase she didn't recognize. Since she and her sister had been caged up on the estate during the war, she thought they'd explored every possible section, even the areas off limits to little girls. Excitement surged as she imagined showing this stairway to Elizabeth. Poor Lilibet, she thought, never time to play anymore. This would get her though. She could never resist a good mystery! Margaret imagined telling her sister about this and about her new sweetheart. Would she understand their love? She slowed down to catch her breath and to savor her memory of his touch, his tongue, his... well everything. Was he thinking of her right now?

Blood. He loved the smell, the feel of it. It was his sole food, his sole sustenance; blood was what animated him, made him feel alive. Alucard was soaking in it. Having drained what he needed from the poor excuse of a vampire, he eviscerated and de-boned it, being careful to leave the heart, skull and spine intact. Then, like a wolf in deer scat, he rolled in the bloody carcass, enjoying the mute screaming of the still existing vampire. Aside from indulging sadistic needs, he would learn more about his opponent. If the excruciating death of her fledgling drew her out tonight he could kill her and complete his mission in one stroke. If she could stomach this death without coming... well that would give him a clearer picture of exactly who he was up against.

Alucard sat up as he felt the approach of a free vampire. This one would be a small challenge, but still just an appetizer. He allowed his form to remain bloody. Soaked in the scent of the weaker being he'd be slightly harder to find, though had he wanted to hide from her vampires, that would have been easy enough. They'd blundered in unaware of innumerable warning charms he'd placed. With barely a stress of his hand he crushed the skull of the suffering fledgling once he had another plaything in his sights, giving peace to the poor thing. He had plans in place to kill all of the un-dead, but he'd hold off until he sized up the vampire controlling these lessor ones.

In a stuffy room miles to the east, Islands poured another drink for his friend. Arthur thanked him as he sat on the edge of the plush couch, "It's just I don't like to be alone... you know how he is."

"No trouble at all," Islands poured another for himself. Well, why not?

"We're not far and it..." Hellsing sighed. "He can send along a simple report... but sometimes it's all in images," one hand waved at the imagined picture as Arthur's voice dropped. "I'd better stay up, but you can go to bed. I'd hate for you to trouble yourself."

"She's a jolly one, our princess," Islands changed the subject. "Did you see her? How she yawned without opening her mouth? Or the way she winked, saying that thing about being 'dead' on her feet as the guests went off to bed?"

"Including us," Arthur reminded a bit grumpier than he intended.

"You just can't be satisfied, can you?" Islands looked at his friend over his Scotch. Hellsing shifted, but didn't speak. "She never invites anyone to these family things, mate. But I've told you, you've no chance. That boyfriend, the cousin in the navy? She's been crazy over him for years! I think she was thirteen or fourteen; that just doesn't change overnight!" His hand gestures caused a slosh of alcohol, which brought a frown from Hellsing.

"Well it was a bit of a lark, really, thinking of it. But, I mean," he said leaning back now, "imagine the power... the Organization tied to the throne..." He closed his eyes and immediately regretted it. A battle raged with Alucard taunting, not even pulling out a gun, and there was a young vampire at his feet. It's face barely more than ground meat, the creature was begging to be killed. Alucard had released his shadows, they were even now enveloping the poor thing. Arthur cried out, feeling the double sensation of devouring and being devoured as Alucard absorbed the damned soul into himself. Hellsing retained enough sense to send a mental command for his servant to just finish it, to stop torturing his enemies. Islands shook Arthur's shoulders until his friend's eyes fluttered open. "Sorry," Arthur murmured, "more tired than I thought I was. Still, it'll be over soon I think." The men stared at one another for a few moments, Arthur smiling weakly as he slouched in his chair, Islands standing over him, drinks forgotten. The knight was once again struck by the odd combination of charm, strength and vulnerability that his friend radiated. To be the master of such a monster, yet to be so tortured by him... was this the way it had to be?

In a far stairwell normally hidden inside the Royal Lodge, Princess Margaret pulled on the handle of an old door, the rust in its rarely used hinges finally gave way to her desperation and it creaked open. The acoustics were such that she could hear the men searching for her ages before they hit the top of the stairways.

"Wha'did she see?" Woodruff's voice.

"Does it matter?" Jameson's.

"Whad in blazes is she do'in up at this hour?" his broad accent showed outrage that should have been her own. How dare they act like she was the one in the wrong!

"Jeezus! What does it matter, we have to find her!" Doors opened and closed along the corridor she'd come from as she pushed the resistant door closed, muffling any more noises from above.

The room was dark and her hand found no light switch as it slid along the stone wall. Her eyes adjusted enough to find a little lantern and some matches on a shelf. She shook as the first match failed, but the next try yielded light. It was a storage room, a few tapestries and a blanket were strewn carelessly about, but the only outstanding feature of the room was a large ornate box that sat in the middle. It was vaguely threatening to her, though she didn't know why. Slowly she approached it. A voice in her mind told her this was what she'd come for and she reached out to touch the tiny gold cup on the top. There were strange runes painted onto the wood in brownish paint. She saw a round brush and knife lying together on the other side of the chest as she looked around. Margaret shuddered as she lifted them. A touch confirmed her suspicions, not paint then. She looked at the box and knew what to do.

There was a loud cracking sound as the doorknobs gave way and cursing as the men on the other side fell over each other. "Can't you see anything?" That's Jameson, she thought as she brought the knife up to her wrist.

"Holy Christ!" Woodruff's voice, though she couldn't think why he sounded so upset. There was pounding on the door and both men screamed at her to open it. Margaret nodded to herself, of course; she'd been instructed to open her veins and that was exactly what she was going to do. Not much, she was cautioned, just a few drops into the tiny chalice. The pounding was louder, as if the men would break the door down. Her hand shook as she looked at the blade glinting in the lantern light. There was a line of dried blood along the edge. His blood. Somehow her mind knew that and it gave her strength. She could do this. She had to. As she brought the knife down, the door was knocked from its hinges. In the resulting confusion, she slashed. Red light flooded the room suddenly, radiating from the ornate box and scaring the men worse than the sight of the princess slumped over it, her life blood flowing freely to the ground. They looked at one another and ran, pushing each other in their haste to get away. A torrent of bats met them at the top of the stairs, causing new panic and they ran blindly away. The bats flew on with purpose, rushing to the room at the bottom before coalescing into a tall, pale man dressed in a parody of a Victorian era gentleman, hat and sunglasses hiding his eyes.

Alucard surveyed the scene, a smile threatening to tear his face apart. His form was unstable, the magic still trying to pull it apart as it had done to the threatening vampires. He raised his hands, but nothing happened. The princess's body blocked his will. "Oh, my pretty little princess," he chided gently as he petted her hair, "we only needed a touch, a small cut." He licked his fangs quickly. "Perhaps," his voice quavered with the combination of magic and anticipation, "perhaps you did this for me?" He stood, spreading his hands wide; his voice likewise embracing the whole room, "Is all this for me?" Alucard savored that thought for just a moment, then reached to cradle her, kneeling beside the box as he pulled her off of it. He stretched one fist out and the red symbols peeled themselves from the chest to settle on the back of his glove and were absorbed into the flashing sigil. A red glow remained in the room, reforming itself into the Hellsing symbol and surrounding Alucard as if to remind him of the order he'd accepted. "Of course," he whispered into her ear, "I will protect you, my princess." He picked up her arm, the blood still leaking from the long gash. Alucard examined the wound critically, knowing he should staunch it... third in line to the throne? Inbred so completely that no ruling family in Europe was not related to her? Oh yes, he thought as his eyes rolled back and closed in pleasure, he couldn't let this chance go to waste. Trembling with excitement, Alucard's tongue moved slowly toward the rich fluid.


	10. On the Move

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- there could be kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 10**

There were times, exact points in his life, as Vlad Dracula, as Count Dracula and now as Alucard, that he could point to and say- yes, that was a mistake. Worse, that the mistake was caused by one or more of the seven deadly sins: Gluttony, Pride, Envy, Anger, Greed, Sloth or Lust. This was such a time. Even during the commission of the crime his brain, now highly advanced over his time as a human, was aware of the nature of his sins, cataloging them for the inevitable Day of Judgment. Still he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to, which he didn't. After licking the warm, fresh nectar from the girl's body, Alucard started on the pools of it that dripped to the stone floor. Gluttony, Pride, Greed, even a touch of Lust as he rubbed against her pale flesh. Even so, he had no intention, despite her semi-conscious pleading and moaning, of violating her. That privilege would be left to some servant boy a little less dense than Walter. Having been taken at too young an age, he felt a twisted prudishness. She deserved a partner of her choosing- of her own free will- something she was temporarily robbed of by his mental intrusions. Alucard now used that connection to monitor her health state. The combination of sudden blood loss and the brute force of the spell on her psyche had overwhelmed her. Shock was setting in and soon she would begin to shiver uncontrollably, but she was not in mortal danger and could wait. He would arrange it so that the princess would awaken in her own bed, arm bandaged and memories erased. With luck, she would think she'd had hurt herself sleepwalking during an odd dream and in a few days her body would replenish the blood lost. He bent down again to lap as a dog at a shallow pool; he couldn't let it go to waste.

Royal blood, he thought as he lost himself in it, was the single most perfect food he had ever tasted. Alucard was partial to the Hellsing line, but that was due mainly to the bonds he'd accepted. A part of him also appreciated the cruelty inherent in wanting what was always nearby, always unattainable. His tongue cupped another mouthful of her life blood but as he brought it to his lips, a hail of needle sharp knives tore across his face, piercing his left eye and leaving his face bloody from the cuts he sustained. Pride, Alucard's mind tallied. He hadn't expected his enemy to arrive so soon, a foolish mistake. He'd known from the beginning who or rather, what she was.

She is my own flesh and blood, Princess Elizabeth thought as the limousine rushed westward towards the town of Windsor, I should never have let her stay behind! The soft snoring of the boy beside her dulled her senses, reminding her of the comfy beds waiting in either direction. I mustn't succumb, she reminded herself. Margaret is just foolish enough to wander right into the path of that 'charming' vampire. Arthur Hellsing's reassuring note about the end of hostilities brought up a whole new host of worries for the princess, the worries of a protective older sister. Young Walter was their go between and offered to accompany her back to the Royal Lodge. Though she'd read Hellsing's comments on him, she couldn't quite reconcile the slender youth with the described killer. Still, the company was welcome, "Walter?" She reached out to shake his shoulder, "Excuse me, boy?"

His first response as he roused was to attack, but even as his hands began to move, a stronger voice in his psyche stopped him. This was, after all his future monarch! "Sorry, what?" His mind cleared and he saw she hadn't noticed. Most people assume that if you haven't a knife or gun, then you aren't dangerous. It was a belief that made him a very successful assassin, an Angel of Death. "I beg your pardon, ma'am," he corrected.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Elizabeth said quietly, "I only wanted to ask your opinion on something."

Me? Walter was shocked, but strove to hid it. Hellsing commonly asked for his thoughts on matters, but he'd never expected that from her. "Certainly, ma'am," he sat up straighter and inclined his head to show interest.

"The... other gentleman," she hesitated. Surely Walter knew of his teacher's true nature, but she didn't want the driver and bodyguard in the front seats to think she'd gone crazy, "He... you know him well, don't you?"

Walter followed her gaze to the front of the car and nodded, boasting, "I've worked with him for a while. He helps me out now and then."

She smiled, "Yes. What I'm wondering is, can he be trusted?"

A frown creased Walter's face as he debated the best answer, "Well, he won't blab about things. He's very discreet if that's what you're worried about." That walked the line between how Walter regularly trusted Alucard with his life, but could never trust him again in other ways.

What was done was done, she thought and wanted more than ever to get home quickly. Hellsing indicated no damage, but some mess to clean up and one door would need replacing. Once she saw her sister sleeping soundly in bed she could relax. Elizabeth looked out at the passing countryside, so peaceful at night. "No, but thank you," she sighed. "I'm sorry to have waked you."

Arthur awoke in a small but well appointed bedroom in Buckingham Palace, completely disoriented. Sweat glued his clothing to his body despite the chill in the room. "Walter," he shouted, "Walter, get up you lazy boy! We need to go!" Instead of his manservant, Sir Islands dragged himself out of the servant's room to answer the call. "Jesus, Hugh!" Arthur said, "You didn't need to stay here."

Islands squinted through foggy eyes, "What time is it? Arthur, what's the meaning of this?"

"Why were you in... oh," Arthur's face registered surprise at the conclusion he'd jumped to, but Islands was too sleepy to notice.

"Arthur, it's only three, do you know how little sleep I've had?"

Hellsing dismissed his friend's question as he headed into the smaller chamber to wake Walter. He stared at the rumpled bedsheets and then called back to Islands, "But where is he?"

"Who? The kid? Dornez?" Like sobering up, he was having trouble coming to his senses quickly, "He left about... maybe a half hour ago... I took his bed. Too tired to go back to my own." Islands began a large yawn, but lost it as Arthur came back into the main bedroom, his face furious.

"Left! Where?"

Islands was taken totally off guard and looked slightly guilty. He sat on Arthur's bed, "Oh, well I guess back to the Lodge with Eliza--"

"What?" Hellsing closed his eyes for a moment and tried to count backwards from ten, only making it as far as eight before exploding, "Whose bloody good idea was that!"

"Well, hers I'd imagine. I only know because he came back after he took her your message. Asked if I thought you'd mind. Didn't want to wake you. But it was his assignment, wasn't it? I don't see why you're so upset Arthur. I can have another servant brought up--"

Hellsing ran his hand through his hair and looked at Islands darkly, "I'll need your car."


	11. Facing Enemies

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- more violence. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 11**

In the many buildings and rooms of the Royal Lodge, servants slept fitfully. A herald tossed about as he dreamed of the war, the bombing of Dresden. Only, in his dream the dead spoke, taunting one another about the damage they could do to the beautiful places, the destruction they would make of one another. For one kitchen maid, the sound of gunfire put her inside a movie about detectives and gangsters. It was a movie where she stood helpless, crying as her boyfriend was gunned down. She knew in the end the hero would triumph, but what good would it do when her lover was dead? She tossed and turned, then settled into a deeper sleep.

Another young woman was clawing her way out of her comfortable dream, out of unconsciousness and into a nightmare. I'm cold, she thought, why am I so damned cold? Her body was shivering out of control and she was moving, being moved about. What? By who? She scrambled to make sense of what was going on, but her brain felt like it was covered in a dense felted wool. Why? A slow trickle of memories came to the surface of her mind. Red eyes... a monster... Her right hand clutched the familiar fabric of her nightgown as an absurd need to retain modesty overtook her. She wondered if she'd worn knickers? Margaret heard the sound of a man chuckling softly to himself once her hearing came back to her. Her left arm was being roughly wrapped. She opened her eyes to see the side and back of the man, his face obscured by black hair as he bent to cut a makeshift bandage with his teeth. No! Margaret squeezed her eyes shut. Fangs, with his fangs... she knew what she would see when she opened her eyes again and it sickened her. Used! She felt used and dirty. Why had she thought he loved her? Considering how weak she was, it wasn't the wisest thing to do, but through trembling lips she cursed him.

Alucard smiled indulgently as he stood, "Good morning, Princess. It's time to get moving." He waited. She stared at his gloved hand, extended to assist her up. Her look went from angry to questioning, but time was of the essence. Alucard tried a different approach, "Please forgive me Princess, that didn't go as well as I'd planned." When that still didn't get her to move, the vampire leaned over her, arms encircling her waist as he lifted her up from the floor to standing.

"Stop that! Don't you touch me!" Margaret flailed at his hands, but once upright she was so light headed she had to reach for his clothing to keep from falling. The box in the middle of the room was destroyed, in fact the whole room looked like a war had been fought in it. Gunpowder perfumed the air and she tried to piece together what had happened until the vampire leaned over her once more. "What're you doing!" She protested as he picked her up this time in one arm; she saw a machine gun balanced in the other.

"Protecting you," he looked down at her, his smile broadening as she closed her mouth, aware enough of the danger to accept what he was saying. He watched her sigh and shift so she was seated on his arm rather than carried like a bundle of rags. She clamped her arms around his neck as he ran up the stairs from the stone room.

A winter storm kicked up suddenly and chunks of ice pelted the car. Walter sat in silence beside the crown princess. Her mood darkened as they neared the compound. "What happened," the words sounded forced and she didn't look at the boy, "between you two?"

Walter hoped he knew who she meant, he didn't want to seem dense, "Nothing! She... we didn't do anything, nothing happened..." he looked at the princess unsure. The glare he received didn't clear anything up, so he went on, "She, she just came to my room, but I swear I didn't invite her... um she wanted to go out... we went to look at the stars," he couldn't meet her eye, so he looked at his rings, twisting an errant one on his index finger. "But the vampire--" Walter was speaking softly, even so he looked up to make sure the men in the front didn't notice his slip up. The guard was asleep and the chauffeur seemed to be drifting in and out as he drove along the country roads.

"Alucard?" she prompted.

"No, the, um... the other, the weak one. I ran to stop it and she..." He sighed, "Alucard said she was steamed at me but I didn't do anything..." Walter felt crushed by the pain in her eyes when he finally dared to look at her.

A knot had been forming in her stomach as he spoke. It twisted in her gut as a horrible thought wormed its way into her heart; her sister might have had more than one reason to go out that night, more than one reason to stay home tonight. "The one... it, Sir Hellsing said it was sent to make contact?"

Walter followed the train of thought, "Yes but... your Highness! I'm sure it's not like that." The drift of the car had become more noticeable. Walter saw serious nodding by the driver, "Um, ma'am? Your Highness? Miss?" She was fighting an internal battle and he had trouble getting her attention until the car swerved off the drive to the Lodge. The storm was pounding down a mixture of snow and ice, but Walter didn't hesitate to jump out into it and open the driver's door, pushing the sleeping man over onto the loudly snoring bodyguard, "Oi! What's wrong with you two!" There was no response, so he turned back to Elizabeth, "You may want to hold on ma'am, I'm still learning." After a grinding sound, the limousine lurched forward toward the pale buildings.

The outside lights were subdued compared to Buckingham Palace, but the buildings reflected the lightning so that it was nearly as bright. Strangely, no soldiers stepped out into the storm to challenge them. As they passed through the large gates, Elizabeth touched his shoulder from the backseat. "Walter? What's going on?" She asked. The car ground to a halt some distance from the front. Elizabeth leaned forward to see the boy's face, she watched his look harden.

"Stay here," he whispered to her but she shook her head angrily. "Don't you dare," she growled back at him. Who did he think she was to be ordered about in her own home! Walter looked at the two sleeping men, the snow and the proud set of her jaw. He imagined she'd be even harder to dissuade than her sister.

In another car fishtailing through the night, Islands gripped the dashboard as Hellsing drove at a maddening speed through the foul weather. "This is why we have chauffeurs, Arthur!" he gasped.

"Oh relax, Islands," Arthur lied, "I do this all the time." For one thing he'd never driven in a storm and this storm was not natural. Hellsing felt that in his bones. It had been clear earlier in the evening and a storm this intense couldn't have just arrived. For another, while he did enjoy racing, he usually raced motorbikes. A limousine does not handle like a motorbike, especially on a slick road. "Besides, we don't have time to wait for servants to get ready. Just keep holding on." It also would've been easier if he could keep his mind on the road instead of worrying about what chaos his servants were wreaking at the Lodge. How could he salvage his chances at royal favor now? Alucard had alerted him to the new danger. Expect heavy damage he'd said. Dear God, Hellsing thought, with both princesses there by now?

"You don't suppose they're in league do you?" Islands yawned, finally releasing his death grip on the car. "I mean he said it was a female and he did know--"

Arthur interrupted with a laugh, "He's never in league with another vampire, Hugh! You know that. He'd rather exterminate the whole lot of them!" As they neared their destination, Islands seemed to be having a harder time fighting sleep, so Arthur went on, trying to keep his fellow Knight engaged, "It's his real mission, in a way. The reason he's with us."

"So," another large yawn, "what does he do... once he's got them... all?" The adrenaline that had kept Islands awake seemed gone now and he settled back into the seat, resting his head on his arm, only barely hearing Hellsing's soft reply, "Then I'll miss him."

The storm raged outside the mansion as Alucard raced through the hallways. Snow, sleet, thunder, he thought, all strong and well sustained. It pleased him that his enemy had bothered to conjure it. Did she seek to impress him? If so, that was a weakness he could exploit. She'd been injured by the blessed bullets in their first encounter and he wondered how long she would continue to try and hide from him. Would she leave without her prize? Alucard hoped not. She'd wanted the books enough to risk all of her minions at once; she'd wanted them enough to face him. He shifted his arm with the princess perched on it; she looked giddy at the speed they reached on the longer corridors. A new plan was in order, he thought.

"Who are we fighting?" Margaret ventured to ask when he stopped to listen at a doorway.

Alucard's look was serious, but he spared a smile at her, "We?" He knelt, balancing the girl easily and putting down his gun. A white gloved finger swept along the carpet and came up with a trace of dark red stain which he cleaned quickly with his tongue. "In a manner of speaking, one of my daughters." They were moving again before she could speak and she didn't dare talk due to the effort of holding on.

Arthur Hellsing kept up a lively conversation with the sleeping Sir Islands. He slowed down, due more to the whiteout than how close he was to the compound. As he reached the punchline of a particularly filthy joke, a figure suddenly loomed in the headlights. Brakes squealed and tires dug for traction on the slippery road. Arthur checked that his passenger was unhurt, then opened the door to see if the man outside was down.

It wasn't as cold as he expected, wet and slippery mainly. A man scrambled toward the bank on the far side of the road, apparently unhurt. "Sorry I scared you," Hellsing shouted over the strong wind, but the man seemed not to hear. The man shielded his face, but a glimpse of his eyes revealed fear far worse than a brush with an automobile would inspire. "Sorry, really. Crazy storm, isn't it?" he approached the man, smiling broadly in the hopes it would put him at ease, but if anything the man's movements became wilder. As he narrowed the space, the man folded into himself, crumpling into the wet slush with sobs. "Hey now, it's okay," Arthur stayed alert, not taken in by this show of insanity. The man launched himself once the distance had closed, reaching for Arthur's neck. Recognition shocked Arthur more than the attack and his hesitation gave the crazed man a chance. "Jameson," Hellsing gasped, fighting to pull hands from his throat.

They wrestled for minutes, eyes locked in combat every bit as difficult as their bodies. When his opponent began to falter, Hellsing chalked it up to the man not understanding how hard it is, in actuality, to choke a fighting victim, unaware that his eyes had flared red at the addled butler. Jameson ran as Arthur fell, one hand on his chest and the other keeping his body away from the cold wet ground. Dragging air back into his body, he watched his assailant scamper away into the field. A brush with Alucard's mind passed reassurances in both directions, and he breathed easier. The princesses were both well, Alucard was tracking the enemy and still confident. Then the connection broke as the vampire found his prey.

Shots rang out in a broken staccato as Walter and the crown princess neared the Royal's private wing. Elizabeth grabbed hold of his arm in fright. He stopped and looked at her, speechless for a moment. "What was that?" she asked.

"Ma'am? I don't think you should be... that is, I need my arm free," his face flushed pink at the feel of her touch as well as the need to correct someone whose station in life was so far above his own.

"I thought the fighting was over," she said, dropping his arm, but standing as close to him as she could. She tried to muster up her courage and was flustered over showing weakness in front of this boy. Elizabeth looked at him; he seemed older now. Where had the shots come from? Was Margaret safe? She began to question which command the beast would follow, to crush the thief or to protect her sister? Were they one and the same? Her mind ran wild with worry.

"It was over," Walter had no doubt in Lord Alucard or Sir Hellsing; something had changed. He had yet to find one person awake and somewhere the machine gun kept up its rhythm. If he didn't have to play bodyguard, Walter would be running toward it. "We'd better get you to safety." He turned her by the elbow so that they faced away from the family's quarters.

"Stop that! No," she protested, pushing away from him and turning back toward the hallway. This time his touch was rougher as he turned her again, calmly explaining the need for her to avoid the fighting. She regretted it the instant she slapped him, but her frustration at being handled and thwarted overwhelmed her. In the quiet corridor, the sound was as loud as a gunshot. Elizabeth was as shocked by it as he seemed to be, though his surprise was quickly replaced by a darker look than she had ever seen in her twenty years. The silence between them begged for words, preferably ones that sounded like 'I'm so sorry', 'I didn't mean to hit you,' or 'I understand ma'am,' 'I get hit for no reason all the time' but neither person spoke. Walter's cheek stung. It wasn't the worst he'd felt by far, even a playful cuff from the vampire sometimes bruised but this pain went deeper. This pain cried out for payment.

Light glinted off of something in his hand, though she'd been assured by Hellsing that his assassin wouldn't carry a gun or knife on the royal grounds. The princess realized how vulnerable she was. Not a soul was awake and she faced not a boy, but a man. His eyes chilled her, they were as pitiless as death itself. Walter wasn't as big as the vampire, maybe half a foot taller than she and slightly built, but she hadn't felt physically threatened by the monster. "I—Ow!" she twisted in his grip, trying to pull free the hand she'd struck him with.

"If you want to die so soon Princess, let's not tarry here," he pulled her, almost dragging the princess along the corridor toward the sound of Alucard's Thompson gun.


	12. Facing Old Friends

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and -gasp- there could be more kissing before it's through. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 12**

He could easily have avoided the blow if it hadn't been for fear. The fear was nearly overwhelming, though it wasn't his own. The fear belonged to the princesses under his protection and because of them he took the full blast from his enemy's gun, his body staggering from the force. Alucard nearly fell atop the little girl who cowered behind him. His shadows writhed within him, moving slower than they should to repair his torso. He'd taken several hits in the past minute and it was starting to effect his regenerative abilities. Damn these distractions, he thought.

"Not so brave now," his enemy taunted from across the large library. He blocked her access to the door, but there were small windows near the high ceiling she could flee from if such were her intent. He was pleased that he'd assessed her correctly. Definitely category A, Alucard decided. She was still beautiful and he forced himself to remember the night he'd caught her. A wedding party in a small town he frequented. She'd been one of the attending maids and he remembered his pleasure when he discovered she still was a maiden. The year was forgotten now, but he could call up the taste of her skin, the feel of her dark hair draping across him as he lay with her. He released her soon after, as was his custom, allowing her to find her way as a creature of the night. Alucard never questioned his choices in turning a woman and he had never been disappointed in the resulting vampire. It was wonderful to watch her even now, even as he knew he would destroy her. He answered her bullet for bullet, but this was only foreplay, they each wanted to get to the real action. "Soon," he purred, his voice drowned out by the gunfire that was destroying a vast collection of rare books. His latest attempt to get her to dodge her way into a planned ricochet failed and happiness surged within him at the level of challenge she was presenting. Alucard had no such option of dodging. He had to take the blasts from the vampire's sawed off shotgun in order to protect the girl, Margaret. His body shook with a new barrage of bullets.

As the sound of gunfire grew louder, Walter began to slow. Guilt crept up his neck, up into his face and he snuck a glance back at the crown princess. There were tears on her face and he let her go as she pulled against his grip again. "I'm sorry... ma'am," he began, "I shouldn't... um, we should go back." He stopped and the princess ran into his shoulder as her newly freed hand covered her eyes.

"No," she shook her head, not daring to look him in the eyes. Too many emotions pushed at her mind: anger, fear, shock and shame leading them. We're almost at Margaret's room, she thought! His hand landed on her shoulder, a surprisingly gentle touch for a man she thought would kill her minutes before. She still refused to look at him.

"I... you should be kept safe, your Highness," he could see his words had as little effect now as before, even if she seemed more subdued. He was touching her though and it felt perfectly natural. He moved his hand to her back in what he hoped was a calming gesture. She trembled and instantly he felt turned on. Walter pulled his hand off her as if she might feel his erection through it. It amazed him how quickly his mind could change between violent and sexual thoughts. Was that normal? He couldn't say and the only ones he was close enough to ask were so twisted to start with... Walter shook his head trying to clear his hormone addled thoughts, "I know you're worried about her."

Elizabeth stared unseeing at the carpet, but she clung to her dignity, "I just have to see, to know... if she's..."

Walter fought the urge to touch her face, to make her look at him. There were some class barriers that he couldn't cross. "Lead on, your Highness," he sighed. The sound of fighting was closer, somewhere up the hallway from the door she stopped at. Walter motioned, "Please, ma'am," and though at first she didn't understand, as he signaled, she moved behind him, one hand on his back as if for reassurance. The royal rooms were much nicer even than the family ones at the manor. The princess's chamber consisted of a main sitting area as large as Sir Hellsing's bedroom and two doorways leading in opposite directions. Walter presumed that one was for the water closet and one for her sleeping room. If she was like the rest of the house, the little princess was lost in her dreams.

There was no movement in the rooms aside from the two of them gliding toward the bedroom door. This time the princess took the lead before Walter could stop her. She hesitated with the door cracked open, turning to the man once she saw the shape in the bed move slightly. "It's alright," she whispered, "I'll stay here and be out of the way, you go on and see what's happening. Then you can come back and protect us both." Giving orders was as natural to her as breathing, but she understood the concern that made him pause instead of obey. "We'll be safe," her voice had a thankful quality to it as she looked back at the sleeping form, nestled in soft blankets, before closing the door, stepping back into the sitting room.

Without another word, the young butler was gone and she was alone. No, she corrected herself as she relaxed into an armchair, I have my sister in the next room. All is well.

"What the Hell is wrong around here?" Arthur Hellsing asked the prone form of his friend, Sir Hugh Islands, as he laid the man on a couch just inside the entry. This sleeping was probably courtesy of Alucard, he reasoned, it must be what the vampire meant by precautions, but this storm? What purpose did it serve? He'd read of the storms the vampire had used to shield his evil work when he was free to rampage, before his defeat by Van Helsing and crew, but why had he turned to it again? It seemed a waste of his power.

Hellsing was making his way in the chauffeur's entrance as the realization dawned on him. Another vampire of Dracula's abilities? He stood still, could she really be the Count's equal? Excitement tingled along his spine. Finally! He savored that thought. Finally, he could compare himself with his legendary grandfather. Finally an enemy worthy of his new creation, the triumph of fifty years of Hellsing experimentation! His legs now took bounding steps through the building, his connection with Alucard guiding him more than his eyes. It was a pity these buildings would take such damage, already he entered a corridor showing signs of the first encounter Alucard had mentioned. Since the grounds had converted from gas lights to electric early in the technology's existence, there were halls that had lost power due to only one hit, one circuit becoming damaged. Hellsing prepared his argument, his rationalization to the royal family that as unfortunate as the damage was, it would give them a chance to upgrade certain systems that were sorely in need of it. Of course, if the princesses were hurt? There would be no argument that could save his hide.

Princess Margaret Windsor, the princess of York was not feeling very regal. In fact, she was trying not to feel anything at all. Cowering behind the large desk, now upturned and damaged by gunfire, she watched Mr. Card's tall shape, trying with all her might to ignore the throbbing of her arm. She was succeeding mainly because of the other complaints that swirled in her mind. Her ears were ringing from the sound of gunfire and yelling. Her own screams clawed their way out of her dry and hurting throat as the vampire she hoped was still her guardian staggered from his wounds. Dear God, she thought, how much longer can this last? How much more can he take, can I take?

"Hospodar," the female creature across the room said in a taunting manner, "why don't we throw down these arms and fight like real Nosferatu?" Margaret noticed that the creature did not act according to her words, instead reloading her weapon while moving in a seemingly random pattern away from a hail of bullets. The ceiling fell like rain on the opposite side of the room as some of his bullets must have went wild. "Already you slow down, old one."

Margaret's attention turned as the door behind her opened. Walter, the servant she'd been so angry at, entered cautiously his eyes on the dueling vampires. She felt relief at the sight of him, another normal person. Somehow his thinking she was unattractive wasn't as upsetting in light of all that happened. The princess even remembered why she'd found him so cute as she admired his serious but confident face. Strange glimmers of metal strings flitted in front of him as he moved. When he saw her, his reaction was as negative as hers had been positive and she felt her pride hurt all over again. Walter's face drained of color as he looked between the princess and Alucard.

Gunfire was not a normal noise to hear except at the range with her father and that was rare enough. The sound jarred on her nerves, but not enough to keep Princess Elizabeth's eyelids from drooping as she sat in the darkness of her sister's room. She roused as she heard the door to the bedroom open, "Maggie?" she asked. In response, a cool hand slid across her shoulders. In the royal family, there were standards to be upheld. She had friends she hugged and of course her love, but casual touch was kept to a minimum. "There's a bit of excitement tonight, dear. You should go back to bed." When her sister didn't answer, the young woman felt a creeping sensation along the line her sister had touched. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. "Margaret?" Hands clamped down on her shoulders and she resisted the urge to scream.

"No, you stupid sow," the voice of her secretary was filled with a cruel humor, matched by the face that moved alongside her own, nuzzling its way down her neck. "But we can be like sisters now."


	13. Facing Mistakes

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and mild nudity. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 13**

In the cool darkness, one eye opened. The single eye stared a hole through the stone ceiling, then out through that to somewhere far away. It heard his call, felt his need, his desire and responded in kind. The red orb blinked as the casket reached out to its beloved, establishing a flow of power as soon as the Hellsing seals grudgingly moved aside. Had anyone been there to touch it, they would've received a charge from the energy it converted, but there was no one and no one would have dared to touch its perfection. It was only for him, the one it longed to embrace, to devour, to keep safe. Despite the lack of light, shadows crept along its ebony surface. The dark angel closed its eye, content for the moment but unable to rest until he was back under its lid.

Miles away, a keening wail accompanied Alucard's death. The young princess's desperate sorrow seemed to fill the room, but Walter couldn't let his own heavy heart slow him down as he raced across the room to face the Class A vampire alone. Distract and fight defensively, that's what Alucard would've told him if the shotgun blasts hadn't taken out his head and heart, Walter was certain of that. His sorrow wasn't for his vampire friend but for himself; he'd failed. This whole night was all failures, all bad choices. As he closed with the enemy his strings flew out shattering her modified gun; its pieces clattered to the floor in front of the startled Midian. Walter didn't care if her surprise was from his attack or how easily Alucard died. The advantage was his and he wouldn't lose it. Fighting, this he could do.

The vampire may have once been beautiful, but her face was screwed up with anger and she spat acid at him as he circled. Walter kept his threads moving in the space between them and was careful not to let her grab them. Walter also knew to avoid looking at her eyes, like a snake she could charm him until her fangs sunk into his veins. They were probably red like Alucard's, though most vampires seemed to have a normal color and the red of blood lust. Alucard? Well, Walter guessed he liked his red. A sudden laugh brought his eyes back up toward her face. It wasn't a nice laugh, rather more like a cough with a dry chuckle thrown in. "That young fool," the vampire said, more to herself than either of the humans in the room with her, "well, I'll put a stop to this." She felt the bite of Walter's wires across her right shoulder and cursed at him before adding, "you'll have to wait, my little snack." She waved her hand, knocking Walter off balance despite his having crouched in preparation, then dissipated into a mist which freely crossed the room, no longer blocked by Alucard's power. Walter yelled at her departing form in anger, he hadn't even gotten a good strike in! Alucard would've laughed at him. Princess Margaret felt the cool caress of mist passing over, her bandaged arm throbbed again and by the time she looked up from it, the cloud was gone.

Walter stumbled once, but ran to the girl's side as quickly as he could. She'd pulled Alucard's corpse behind her makeshift shield, and he saw the red coat losing cohesion along with the rest of the body. "Pay that no mind, ma'am," he said as kindly as possible, seeing as how the girl looked one moment shy of screaming again. "Your Highness, he's... he's not dead. Well, he's dead but he was dead to start with wasn't he then? Um, if that makes sense... you'll see." There was a look of total confusion on her face and he wanted to explain, but if they were going to help her sister, "We've got to get going." He reached his hand out for her to take, shy about touching her after noting the flinching reaction she had to him. These royals, he thought.

She stood her ground proudly, "I'm not leaving him. He died protecting me." The callous youth across from her laughed once, smoothing back his dark hair.

"Ah, you and your sister will be the death of me," Walter complained softly. "There's no time, highness. We've got to find her. Please, forgive me," he grabbed her hurt arm and, without looking at her stunned face, ran, half dragging her out of the room.

Arthur Hellsing was in the hall near the sound of gunfire when it had abruptly stopped. A chill ran down his spine, one he usually associated with his un-dead servant. Turning back around he thought he caught a glimpse of red eyes in a mirror and hurried back toward it. "Alucard?" He tried a mental shout, but felt nothing in return. Still, the feeling was strong and he knew when to listen. There weren't many doorways along this stretch, but the few seemed impressive; these were heavy wooden doors that meant business, Arthur put a hand on one and felt nothing. He leaned into the door, trying to make out any sound at all. With haste, he moved on.

The one sound Hellsing would not have heard if he'd been listening at Princess Margaret's thick oak door was the sound of whimpering, because there wasn't any. There was the sound of fabric tearing and the evil seductive tones of her secretary, which Elizabeth was trying her best to ignore, but no whimpering or pleading. In all her years of training, the strongest lessons were taught by example, by watching her parents when they faced adversity, public or private. No, the Windsors do not cry out, they hold themselves with regal bearing. Easier said than done, she thought, when forced to kneel on an oriental carpet as the remains of the woman you trusted cackled and threatened above you. Elizabeth wished she could beg as she was being commanded to do, anything to get out of here, but she couldn't. Her fine clothes were tattered on her back, and she clung to the shreds in front, trying to hold whatever dignity she could. How could it have come to this?

"You are infuriating, you pampered fool!" The former secretary kicked the princess's side for emphasis.

"Ida, stop this," Elizabeth lifted her head, sick of being threatened... humiliated, "this isn't you--" a kick to her jaw shut her up. The choked crying sound, she rationalized, was from pain not submission. She raised her head again, looking Ida Bromberger in the eyes challengingly.

"You think you know all about me? All about any of us? Do you know the levels of shit that happen around here? In all of these places, there are real people who live real lives and you don't know anything about them!" Spit flew onto Elizabeth's face as the vampire yelled. The droplets remained, a slight sting to them on her delicate skin. "No!" the vampire's face contorted around a set of enlarged canines, so unlike the face of the woman she'd known. It was practically curling onto itself in anger, "you never listened when I told you about him. 'What's wrong with ambition?' you say! So he asks me out last night, while you were gone. 'Wanna go get a bite?' he asks... yeah! You never knew he was a bloody comedian!" a cackling laugh filled the room, under all of it was still the light laugh of the woman she'd known. She wished she couldn't hear that. Elizabeth covered her ears, tattered fabric fluttering down to her waist, her skin suddenly exposed to the cool air. "Neither did I," the vampire shrieked, her harsh laughter alternating with growls, "Goddamn him!"

Elizabeth willed her face to stay calm though her mind was racing in a million directions, who? Not that Alucard, surely. Unless this was all a ruse to get to her staff... perhaps her whole family? No, he had sworn... but what was that worth? The oath of a Hell fiend? No. The only truth was that Ida had become one of them. Jumping to conclusions was counterproductive. How soon could Walter get back here? She blushed, not wanting to be seen kneeling, submissive. Was Margaret safe? Why wasn't she in her room? Elizabeth shifted slightly on her knees. The princess didn't dare speak, her jaw being too sore, but she focused again on her tormentor as Ida had suddenly stopped laughing or cursing, whichever it was and began to sniff the air excitedly. "Mistress?" The vampire called, then glared at Elizabeth, a hand up silently commanding her to stay as she crossed the room.

The princess couldn't have moved anyway, a panic far beyond fright gripped her as she watched a wall of black mist take shape near the doorway, not a shape any human was meant to comprehend. From the pulsing mass of darkness a large tongue appeared, moving lovingly along Ida's face. Soon a mouth and eyes were visible, but before Elizabeth could see the creature, she could hear it. A beautiful voice called out, "You little fool." Elizabeth cringed before realizing that it wasn't directed at her. "What have you brought me? Where are my books?" Elizabeth was stunned to watched Ida cringe instead.

"She... they're hers, she must know where they are," Ida mumbled, embarrassed. Red eyes, as crazy as the ones she'd seen in the fireplace days ago, widened as they stared straight at the princess. Elizabeth resisted the urge to try and cover her chest. Once her mother had tripped at a public gathering, getting mud and dirt on her pretty clothes. She'd laughed, but then carried herself as though she wasn't covered in filth. Later she told her daughter that the Queen is never dirty, nor improperly dressed. By the end of the day, she'd said, other ladies wished their dresses were as fashionably mud splattered. Whether or not that was so, Elizabeth had learned the implied lesson. Rising from her knees, she let the fabric fall where it may and stood proudly before the monster. Her nerve faltered slightly as the thing changed, altering itself into a petite woman and walking towards her with Ida falling in close behind. The pale lady wore a white shirt with ruffles, almost a tinker's look to it, and black trousers so tight that in the dark room they looked painted on. Her annoyed expression was framed by short black hair.

"Your Majesty," the vampire performed a mocking bow. "Forgive my over eager little servant. I came here tonight for a few texts, nothing more." Ida's face had never really lost the scared look since the other vampire arrived, but at those words, she seemed to look even more frightened. Clearly this creature was a force to be reckoned with. The beautiful monster turned. Ida was taller, but seemed to try and shrink under the stern gaze. "Apologize to the nice lady."

"B..but... Mistress..." she stuttered.

A fierce growl accompanied the words, "Do you want an all out war? This girl is royalty!"

Ida was never unintelligent, Elizabeth reflected, and when she found her voice again, her point was true. "Mistress, with all due respect, you are here. That itself is enough for-- This, this hasn't work out as you planned. She may be the key to keeping safe. You could let me watch her until?"

The monster tapped her red lips with one gloved finger before answering the taller woman, "You're young, but smart. He was right about you. Very well, we'll get--"

"Where is my sister!" the princess surprised herself with the strength in her voice. She wondered in a dispassionate way if she'd be hit for it, but the creature stayed Ida's hand and laughed instead. The vampire's laugh was pleasant, although with it came a dry, musty smell, as of the mummies in the British Museum. Elizabeth was certain she'd be in more danger if left with her secretary; the other creature seemed to have self control at least.

"Very good, princess, so you can speak." Along with this comment came a strange headache, the likes of which Elizabeth had never felt. Her head felt like a ripe tomato at a market stall, strangers squeezing its bruised flesh mercilessly. "You're a tough nut. My lackey gathered the books for me but where are they? You can tell me." The vampire kept her tone light, as if she and Elizabeth were just chatting, "Well then, what can I possibly tell you? Your pathetic guard dog is dead. Working for you has made him weak." An evil grin replaced the friendly look the vampire had. She leered at the princess. "Oh, really? The so called No Life King can't be killed? How droll. I assure you I saw him fall." Her confident smile began to falter, as did the strange sensation in Elizabeth's mind. "No." Her body fell into shadows, though a hand waved dismissively toward the young vampire, Ida. "She is yours, but keep her alive for now," her image dissolved before her voice left the room.

Ida turned to Elizabeth, a look of triumph on her face. "Kneel, you worm!" With the cold hands on her shoulders, the princess had no choice. "Look what you made me into... working for you, working with him!" Whatever her intention, Ida was again diverted, this time looking to the hall doorway. She cursed and slapped Elizabeth lightly before heading to the door. "It's one of your low life friends," she taunted over her shoulder at the princess, "I can hear breathing!" Ida beamed, one minute cursing her fate and the next seeming to relish in it. Elizabeth looked at the floor around her, wishing there was anything she could reach while the vampire's back was turned. Light glinted off of a cigarette lighter under the armchair to her right. She ignored a vague thought about her sister smoking and gratefully reached to snatch up the weapon. It felt good in her hand, she tore a piece of her shirt and palmed that as well. Fuel, fire... these could be useful when the creature came near her again.

Arthur Hellsing stood outside this doorway considering; he could hear movement and female voices, but the door was too thick to make out words. Were the princesses hidden here or was it their enemy? He was loathe to burst into a room with unknown odds and no backup from Walter or Alucard, but someone was awake in this sleeping castle. Hellsing took one last look up and down the hallway. After a deep breath, he put his hand back on the door latch, quietly easing the well oiled hinges open.


	14. The Bitter Taste of Victory

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and long winded writing styles. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 14**

She tried to keep up with the boy, but Margaret had to stop and get her breath. At least he wasn't trying to drag her anymore. Water, if she could only get some water... If she lived, Margaret promised herself she would never scream, ever again. Her arm throbbed and her body felt like it could crawl away and die without regret. Fingers grabbed at the wall, stars dancing in front of her eyes as the world melted away. Strong arms caught her and though she knew it was impossible, she felt safe at the touch of leather against her cheek, the musty smell of the man whose arms surrounded her.

"Angel of Death," Alucard called up the hallway. Walter spun about, clearly surprised at the sight of the ancient vampire caressing the young girl. The creature looked wilder than usual, dressed in the suit usually reserved for Hellsing's experimentation, his hair trailing off into shadows behind him. "I believe you were leaving something?" Alucard's familiar grin widened at the boy's dilemma. He offered the limp form of the princess to the young butler. Walter came back down the hall after a moment's pause.

"Elizabeth. Lord Alucard, shouldn't you be helping her? Is the princess safe?" Anger, barely concealed on Walter's face, was plain in his voice. Grudgingly, he accepted the burden Alucard placed in his arms.

The vampire stepped away frowning, not answering the boy's anger or question, "I have a mission to finish. Take care of her." The princess roused at the changeover, but her protests were ignored as her protector left her. She fussed until Walter put her feet down, his arms still supporting the bulk of her slight weight.

"It will all turn out, ma'am, we'll see to that. Come along now, that's the way," Walter murmured soft assurances to her as he started back up the hall toward her chambers, helping her as best he could. At least she wasn't screaming at him anymore, he consoled himself. Suddenly the girl pushed at his chest, trying to get his attention. "Here," she said pointing to an open door. Walter could've guessed it without her, not because he remembered it from before -all of the doors in the Lodge looked quite alike to him- but because of the shouting.

Lying in the quiet destruction of the King's library was a young girl, her richly embroidered outer dress covering a plump body, except where her thigh jutted out at an odd angle. Black hair flowed freely around her shoulders, as freely as blood from the claw mark along her femoral artery. Illusion of course, but it earned her Alucard's applause as he entered the room, "Bravo! Gute Leistung! Well done." Wolves had run her down in the foothills near her town, inflicting a mortal wound. She'd made the choice, the only choice he'd expected. He sneered, in his mind he could see her again, dancing gracefully for him at the wedding, proudly spinning her dress to get the attention of the young men in attendance. The dress showed off her skill, hours spent with her sisters and mother toiling beside whale oil lamps or tallow candles, all in the hopes that a nice young boyar would take note. Poor silly girl, he thought. In her illusion, the dress was untouched. He remembered it in shreds, all the needlework come to naught as he took her in his arms and finished the work his wolves began.

She raised her head, her voice shattering the memories she had hoped to evoke as her brown eyes met his with equanimity, "Hospodar, does it make you feel young? Seeing me defenseless? Does it make you hot? Come closer."

"Defenseless?" he pushed air from his lungs, a sound between a hiss and laugh resulting. "No woman of mine is ever defenseless." Pride and not a small amount of lust propelled him forward... she could not prevail; he was far more powerful than she could imagine. That thought left a bittersweet taste on his lips as he kissed her, as bittersweet as the poison he tasted inside her mouth. Red irises narrowed to pinpoints as his body rapidly seized up.

In Margaret's room, Arthur Hellsing felt paralyzed. Fangs and hunger were inches away from his neck, stayed only by the words shouted from his lips, "Ida, don't cross that line! Don't become a killer. There are ways you can survive without doing this!" His voice was high and tight, the snub nosed revolver she'd knocked from his hand lay on the floor, mockingly close. It might as well be in the dunny; he couldn't break the grip of the young vampire. From the corner of his eye, he'd seen the crown princess but he shook the shock away and concentrated on keeping both his heart rate and the vampire who had his arms trapped, from panicking. "At my organization, we can help you. You're young, this can be fixed."

"How?" The voice was more a snarl than a word, but it was welcomed by the man in the vampire's arms. Her grip released slightly as her interest was piqued.

He cleared his mind as best he could, the better to be convincing, "Transfusions, alchemy, a little magic, nothing too hard. We can help you, Ida." Arthur hoped she was too new to be able to read the signs of lying. As none of his bones broke, he smiled. The grip she had on him loosened more. If he pulled away quickly enough, he had a slight chance of making it to his gun before she ripped his arms off. He guessed she wouldn't even know her own strength. Best to keep her talking, Arthur decided. "How long did you know about Jameson?"

Not a good topic. She squeezed him in her anger and bellowed, "That worm! I warned her! Dammit... why did I ever listen to him?" She put a hand up to her mouth. In a blur of motion, Arthur pulled away from the distraught vampire and fell to the floor while a small fireball flew from the crown princess's hand, catching the creature's hair alight and fine wires ensnared the vampire as the door burst open. "Help me!" Ida pleaded, looking between the revolver Hellsing trained on her and her former employer, "you said you could help me..." Fire continued to consume the clothes on her back and she struggled, but the strings bit into her flesh.

Walter held his hands still, one crossed over the other; strings taut but waiting for an order from Hellsing. His eyes widened at the sight of his princess and he gritted his teeth, but his training held. He didn't want to make a mistake now. Elizabeth stepped forward, "Can she be saved? Can this be reversed, Arthur?"

The knight sighed and stood, his gun pointed down now that Walter had her bound, "No, your Highness. Once the choice is made..."

"But you said!" the vampire's mouth opened in astonishment, her fangs looking less prominent now. "Transfusions..." her voice trailed away and she shook with pain as her body continued to burn. She looked at Elizabeth, "I didn't know. He took me to them, I didn't know what they were. He said... they said I was in exchange... so he could live. I didn't understand," she sighed. The older woman slumped, seeming to know what the princess would say even before the words were out.

"I'm sorry, Ida," Elizabeth turned to Walter, a cold, regal look in her eyes, "you have your orders. I speak for myself and for the crown, crush all our enemies." Walter's dark eyes held hers, a grim smile in place as he pulled, only experience telling him when the vampire's limp form switched to dust. Without conscious thought, his hands pulled the strings back into his gloves and he stripped off his jacket, the livery of her house, crossing the room to her. She smiled at him as he settled it over her shoulders, but a frown creased Arthur Hellsing's face.

"Walter, where is the younger princess? Margaret?" Hellsing felt a touch better to watch Walter run to the doorway and a crimson blush creep to the cheeks of the heir presumptive. Best that all remember their places, he thought. He'd wanted closer ties to the crown, but this way would lead only to ruin for all concerned! Indeed, it looked as if all of his plans were dashed anyway. The royal family would never forgive him for this failure.

"It's safe now, your Highness," Walter called into the hallway before assisting the girl up off the floor and into her chambers. The sisters reunited with an almost uneasy embrace. He took up a post by the door as his boss prepared to hear what the boy knew would be edited accounts from the ladies.

Darkness folded back upon itself and Alucard heard the hissing and laughter of the hundreds of the dark souls who clambered close to him, pushing from all sides. "Back you fools," he called to them, his hands batting ineffectually at them, setting off another roar of noise.

"Who's the fool now, you dumb git!" One voice cut through the others. Then another joined it, laughing, "She's trying to consume you? She's the fool if you ask me." More laughter rang through his being as other voices pushed their thoughts at him. "Wakey-wakey, crazy king!", "Give her to us!", "Let me out, I'll run her through!" and "Release me!"

"Shut up, all of you!" He was still lord of their damnation and he used that power to silence dissent. Alucard pushed past their black softness, bursting out of his collapsing body in the form of a three headed wolf-like familiar. The lips of the middle head pulled back into a snarling grin as he looked at the black panther backing away, tail and ears down. Animals touched a strangely compassionate part of his psyche and he may have felt better toward this one if she hadn't had his still smiling head between her fangs.

Alucard's voice started as a deep howl before his face transformed, surrounded by dark shadows that could once have been hair, now lit up with a hundred burning eyes, "Good. Now come, challenge me." The panther continued to back away looking as submissive as a cat is able to, but he knew it was as much a lie as her prostrate form had been earlier. "Come on," he growled from every part of his being, the hounds of war, now separated on either side of him, snapping their drooling muzzles in their eagerness. Fear shone in her eyes, but with a flash of red she readied her attack; multiple arms pushed out of her sides and bony spikes erupted along her vertebrae before she launched herself low at him. He was pleased to see she wasn't attacking blindly. Standing upright, his head and torso were easy to protect, but his legs were a weakness. From the angle of her attack, he knew she was also trying to position herself after the battle so she was closest to the doorway. Silly kitty, he laughed, did she imagined there would be an escape? Where she slashed, only shadows stood. His laughter grew as her frustration did until the screaming roars from her throat and his laughter entwined together with operatic force. She feigned an attack at him, then twisted and tore through the side of a hound's face, thus changing the music with the high cry of pain from the dog. Alucard had planned to swat at her, to merely play with her for the time being, but the part of him that was the shadow hounds had different ideas. The uninjured head tore at her side as she crossed his body to reach her new attack position. Their blood mingled on the floor, neither one taking time to absorb any in their haste for damage.

The hellcat's form twitched as a patch made up of writhing maggot-like creatures the color of light molasses, covered her wound. She had adapted, Alucard thought happily, that wasn't like anything he had seen and she didn't share any of his enhanced regenerative abilities. He'd paid a high price for them at the hands of the Hellsings, but pain was transient by nature. From what he'd seen thus far, he calculated that she was about as powerful as he had been prior to his defeat. She was younger, true, but female vampires, and this little draculina in particular, seemed to develop faster. Alucard felt another flash of joy as she shifted to a woman with only a trace of blood staining her white blouse. "You're a waste of blood. Such a weakling," he taunted, "Vampire? You're just a whore with fangs." Pain comes in many forms and he liked to indulge in them all. Her eyes flared red and the anticipated mental attack came as a blinding series of lights in his mind. To survive for centuries with the souls of thousands within him, to command all of his powers, all of the personalities of his forms, he had to have strong mental defenses. Alucard shrugged off the effect. Clearly surprised, her face contorted as she tried again, this time with a sonic offense. In the frequencies beyond human hearing, her screams burst the thin glass surfaces in the room. Shards rained down on them both from the high windows. Alucard smiled despite the thin trail of blood that oozed down from his ears. As hearing returned with his rapid healing, he stretched his hands toward her. Instinctively she moved forward, as if to reach him across the ten foot space she'd kept between, and all of the glass, from the largest pane to the tiniest sliver, hurtled into her body with the velocity of bullets from her shot gun. Her face expressed all of the pain, real and emotional, that she felt and for a moment he felt some regret. Then she shook the glass off, only the smallest slivers still embedded, and raged at him with flying knives. The wounds were expected, welcomed even as balm for his actions. Still, as the burning of the sigils on his gloves reminded him, he had a mission to finish and he'd played long enough. Alucard's shadows and familiars disappeared and he stood before her as she might recognize him, the warlord, or hospodar, of long ago dressed in silk, leather and furs.

This form was closest to his human self, his true self, and feelings played out in his red eyes; mercy was not one of them. Fear flit through hers, but did not paralyze her, much to his delight. He watched her transform into her most defensive aspect, a tornado of bats ascending toward the only exits she thought he couldn't block. Levitating along with her, he selected the bats that contained her true essence. With a bestial grunt, his sword swung several times through the mass, easily slicing the flying creatures. Black shapes melded and coalesced before falling into his waiting arms. Large slices tore across her body in an arc, starting at her neck. Alucard laid her down on a bed of glass as he knelt in the blood beside her. It wasn't in his nature to apologize, but he felt he owed her something. "I am proud of you," he purred, "you fought well."

Her eyes opened in surprise. She seemed to search his for the hidden jab, the crushing insult yet to come, "Am I defeated?" she sounded disoriented at the turn of events.

"Yes," he said gently, wiping away the blood that bubbled from her mouth with every word. "Are you ready to face your judgment?"

"Yes," she held his gaze. Almost as a question she whispered, "Thank you." His right hand moved rapidly and plunged deep into her chest. The look of peace on her face gave him hope. Perhaps when his time came, when his interminable life was over... well he always had hope.


	15. The Aftermath

**Real Life Princesses**

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and there be off screen sex. Heck, we could even say it's YWx future QEII now. Be warned and be good.

This is the end. Thank you to my few reviewers! I appreciate and respond to all who I can. I will probably do a final edit through the story, so get your comments in quickly so I can alter whatever needs improving.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947.

**Chapter 15**

She had arranged to get him alone, then didn't know what to say. Elizabeth would've laughed at herself, but she worried he'd think she'd gone mad from the attack, "Walter, I... I'm sorry." Margaret was off to bed, Arthur was retrieving her sleeping cousin and the vampire was, well according to the horrible noises in the night, she feared he must be still fighting. She drew in a long breath, watching the youth's back as he stood at the door, ostensibly guarding the girls. "When we, I... Earlier, I shouldn't have hit you." She watched him standing stiffly, the movement of cigarette smoke the only indication that he was alive.

"The crown princess... the bloody King's daughter and heir to the Empire of Great Britain does not need to apologize to a servant boy," he said flatly and took another drag.

She watched his back, just catching the line of his face in the glow when he inhaled. Elizabeth knew this was foolishness, she knew the need she felt was a product of the stress she'd been under, but she rose to stand behind him anyway. "You're no servant, Dornez. You're a weapon. I understand that now." She moved closer, her mouth only inches from his neck. He shivered as she touched his shoulder. For some reason, that delighted her.

"And I don't understand anything," he said bitterly, knowing that wasn't exactly true. He understood why she didn't tell Hellsing about the slap, for example. He knew that he would have to later, if only to explain why he'd allowed her to go so near the danger. He knew it was his failure that led to the pain she'd suffered. He knew she didn't like him to touch her although she seemed to touch him plenty. He pulled away from her, slouching closer to the hallway.

Time was precious, she thought. Any minute now Hellsing would return, her sister would wake or the monster would be back. She wished she'd had locks installed already in her sister's door, but the castle bureaucracy moved slowly. "Walter," she was past arguing right and wrong with herself. Her fiancée was miles away. No doubt he worried about her since she usually wrote him daily and had now missed three in a row but still, he was half a world away. The boy, she corrected herself, the man who had killed for her was right here, right now. He turned to face her and she watched his eyes cloud as she shook off his jacket.

His fag dropped to the carpet and he ground it out with the toe of one shoe. Surely they'll forgive one more burned spot, he thought as his pulse raced. The tattered strips of fabric that had been her jacket and blouse did nothing to hide her body from him and she stood watching him with a regal expression. A sound escaped his throat as his mind caught up to his body; realizing what she wanted, he moved like a man in a dream. She stretched her arms out to him. Bloody Hell, he wondered, the princess? He shut his mind to the protests of his conscience as his hands brushed the remnants of her clothes from her chest and he kissed her mouth the way the vampire had done to him.

With a light laugh, Elizabeth pushed Walter away, "Easy there, my jaw's a little tender. Let's move to the couch." She was three years his senior and between them she clearly had the only experience in such a situation. The springs complained loudly at their movements. This was illicit in every sense and it excited her. She wanted his mouth everywhere. She'd watched him use his hands to kill; with a thrill she directed them now for her pleasure. Moaning softly, he'd do anything she asked.

In the ruined library, Alucard sat reading. His familiars continued to play and howl, enjoying the night and savoring their victory. The duffel bag was nearly emptied of the huge tomes and he could see why she had risked so much for them, though his own interests were different. The vampires studied weren't all top notch, but the notes for each one contained hundreds of details to be gleaned from the pseudo-scientific jargon. The experiments run were quite clever. He would recommend his master read this as well, there was much room for improvement in his form and power levels and it was all laid out in these works. Alucard was tempted to hoard these, to claim they'd been lost in the battle, yet that wasn't his way, not now. His bondage freed him of responsibility; Arthur had to make the decisions, the hard choices. The loss, the deaths were Arthur's burden, not the vampire's anymore. He had no need to own these books. Alucard reread Van Helsing's sections frowning. It wasn't until he heard his master's call that he stirred.

On his way to help Sir Hellsing, Alucard stopped in to gaze at the sleeping princess. Margaret's slumber was troubled, no doubt from the trauma of the night. He pressed gently on her mind, pushing her deeper into sleep. Dawn was coming and the palace would be waking soon, but she needed rest and plenty to drink. She was young enough, her body should recover well. He ran a finger along her newly re-bandaged arm, smiling. What she did not need was to hear the sounds of pleasure from the adjoining sitting room. He chuckled and continued on to the side entrance and to his master.

Arthur continued his discourse with Sir Islands until he felt the dread chill of his servant's approach, "Alucard?" He relaxed a touch as his servant's white gloved hands and the brim of his red hat could be seen moving through the doorway across from the men. "Would you be so kind as to allow Hugh to wake up? He's dreadfully dull company as is." He smiled a silly grin and waved the knight's hand like a puppet's.

The vampire wrinkled his nose slightly at the perfume of Whiskey as he stood before his master. "The butler, master. Do you want him punished?" Alucard was careful with his wording, a sly grin on his face.

"Jameson?" Arthur looked befuddled for a second before saying, "Right, right. Yes, Alucard, I want you to help me with Islands, then go see to Jameson. I want him alive, mind you. Bring him back here, if you please. We'll put him in the boot."

"Master, when I lift it, the whole house," he swept his arm across the garage and buildings, "the night staff and all who should be awake at this time will be." He saw the warning signs of a tantrum in Hellsing's face. Mentally, he reminded himself of the steps needed to reverse the sleeping charm.

"Dammit, Alucard! I'm already this close to thrashing you, just do as I say!" Arthur stared into the cruel eyes of his pet. The vampire couldn't be held to blame for the destruction, nor the hit coming to the Hellsing Organization's status. The staff would discover the damage soon enough and the rest would follow but Arthur was too tired to care.

"I see," Alucard was also tired. Dying was the closest he'd come to sleep since he'd arrived and that transformation process could hardly be called restful. His lips formed a thin line and he concentrated for a time before moving his hands in an arcane pattern and, using Islands as his "voodoo doll," or representative for the other civilians, he waved his hand over the sleeping man. The result was slower than Hellsing seemed to like, but Islands would come to in a few minutes. After bowing to his master, Alucard stepped outside and stretched his hands up; it seemed like he might be calling to a flock of barely visible bats high in the night sky, but then he became the flock and was gone.

Arthur Hellsing slumped down on the couch next to where he had propped up Islands. "What were they thinking? Trying to chain him is like holding back a tidal wave. You know, his power's a drug; some nights we go looking for trouble just to try him out on it. I... well truth is it gives me a rush too, a good fight does. For king and country and all that, eh Hugh?" Island's hand moved over his, squeezing weakly. Arthur smiled, "Ah, good morning old friend."

The rush of sex was like the feeling Walter felt in killing and he wanted it, again and again. Not immediately, he reminded himself, since he was letting her catch her breath. They'd moved to the floor of the sitting room and his clothes and a few couch cushions provided her bed. She wasn't royalty to him anymore; she was a woman, nothing more and nothing less. He'd lost all sense of their class differences after the first time and without thinking reached out his hand to stroke all over her face.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, cheeks flushed. She smiled at his open expression; his dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. What he lacked in experience, she mused, he more than made up for with enthusiasm and a willingness to please. Her fingers brushed lazily over his lips and she was happy to see that he was ready to go once more as he licked at them. For a moment, they were just two kids touching each other, basking in the afterglow. She'd only felt this way once before and she hadn't had near this much fun. As soon as that thought formed, a cold breeze swept through her mind. What am I doing? She pulled away in horror. The boy leaned in, his lips trying to follow where his fingers had been but she froze at his touch. Something had changed inside her and she felt her sense of duty, of responsibility returning in a flood. Someday she would be queen and he would still be a hired killer. She couldn't change that. Her uncle had thrown away the throne for a divorced American and it had torn her family apart. Her fiancée was a good match and she loved him, she always had. End of story. This had been a mistake, an exciting, even wonderful, mistake.

Walter searched her face, but couldn't figure out what was different, "Elizabeth?" He moved back to better focus on her, "What is it?" The door opened and a chambermaid entered the room behind them. Walter looked about instinctively for his gloves and wires, but couldn't find them. That upset him more than the servant walking around the couch and gasping. The princess waved her hand toward the door and the maid left wordlessly, her face a bright red. Walter worried Elizabeth would die of embarrassment but she giggled instead.

"Well, there goes my reputation," she smiled at him. Not the way she had in the throes of passion, but without any trace of worry. "It's alright," she put her hand on his forearm as he rose to collect their clothes, "the servants here are very discreet." She immediately regretted her choice of words and pulled her hand away as his face closed down into the blank expression she'd seen before. She sighed, watching his tightly muscled body move. It was true this was jolly nice, but it could only be a one time thing. Luckily he wasn't a servant of her house. She couldn't resist if he served her, she was sure of that. Instead, he would leave today and she could easily arrange never to see him again. She could communicate with Hellsing via messengers as needed. Walter pulled his trousers on hastily before leaning down politely, professionally, to assist her up. In fact, she thought looking up at him, she could probably arrange to have Walter killed if she wanted; all evidence hidden. Sir Hellsing might object, but the Convention of Twelve would do such things for the crown, making the monarchy less of a figurehead than English citizens needed to know. Once she was standing, Walter tried to pull away, not making eye contact until she held on to his hands, touching them with respect. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips, a kiss of regret, a kiss of goodbye. Emotions played in his gray eyes, but like a good servant, he said nothing. Of course she wouldn't ask her father to do anything to Walter, she pulled him close, her hands roaming along his back, he was far too valuable a tool to waste. "Thank you," she whispered and released him.

Walter relaxed once she kissed him and he smiled, but didn't trust his voice to speak. He finished dressing and set about to put the cushions back while she slipped into her clothes, discarding her rags for his jacket, only buttoning it up as high as she could. His mind raced over the past night, the highs and the lows of it, while he straightened up the room under her gaze. He imagined returning often with Sir Hellsing; he imagined them finding time for each other; he imagined falling in love with her. It shouldn't bother him that she was back to acting like a princess, he reasoned, she was what she was and it wasn't his place to want her to change. Still no sign of his gloves, he heaved a sigh before composing his face and turning to her with a grin, "If it pleases your Highness, I'd like a moment to wash up." It wasn't really a question and she nodded her answer, as he proceeded to the bathroom. After splashing his face, Walter looked up to see the red eyes of Alucard staring back at him through the mirror. "Go away or take a form, Alucard." The eyes disappeared, but Walter doubted he left.

"You're certainly in a bad mood for a boy who just lost his virginity. Are you tired of being a boy toy already?" the little girl stood next to the sink, dressed in the white suit and coat Alucard knew would be remembered. This form always put the boy at his ease, made him cockier. The boy ignored her, washing his face and hands thoroughly without giving so much as a look at the vampire. Red eyes partly hidden under black bangs glowed with glee as she moved close, leaning over to sniff at the boy's neck. "Mm, yum!" Alucard let Walter push her away easily, pouting, "Little Angel didn't even invite me to the party! We could've had such fun."

"Ahhh," Walter finally looked at the vampire, smirking and laughing, "I don't think she'd like that."

"Don't be so full of yourself," Alucard teased, twirling a strand of long hair, "I can be a lot of fun at parties." A feigned look of surprise crossed her face as she ran her hand along her coat, exclaiming, "Oh, what's this? There's something in my pocket? Pass me a cig and I'll show it to you." She moved back, watching the boy rummage through his waistcoat and withdraw a pack. "You should quit. Do you know how easy it is to track a smoker?"

"Stuff it," Walter lit both cigarettes before handing one over. It had been years since the vampire had chosen to share a smoke, but not so long since he'd lectured on it. Walter blew out wisps of acrid smoke and leaned against the back of the door, "What's in your pocket then?" He imagined Alucard would draw this out for a while, so the shock of seeing what the vampire brought out in white gloved hands was doubled. The little girl's face looked like a very vicious cat who ate a pet shop full of canaries. Walter's wires, rings and gloves glinted through her fingers. "Where did... when? You? Oh." Walter knew not to reach for them. The vampire would grab his hand, pushing back each finger until the boy cried out or perhaps the finger broke. At least that was how Alucard usually did; right now Walter wasn't sure how anyone was going to behave. "May I have my gloves back?"

"That's what I like about you, Angel, you can be trained," she picked up one glove and seemed to consider it, "but you haven't said 'please.'"

There was a knock on the door and an almost timid voice asked, "Walter? Are you alright in there?"

Alucard rolled her eyes, making Walter laugh a little as he answered, "Of course, ma'am, we'll be right out." In a softer voice, he asked the vampire, "Please, may I have my things back?"

"As long as you acknowledge that you owe me," the calculating look in the diminutive vampire's eyes gave Walter pause.

A shiver ran down his spine, but Walter nodded, holding out his hand as an overly pleased Alucard placed the weapons back onto his hands. He flexed his fingers into his gloves and felt that life couldn't get much better. As he left the washroom, he smiled at Elizabeth. She looked back at him with an open mouth and he wondered why until he heard Alucard's deep voice, "Good morning, your Highness. I trust you've made it through the attack unscathed?" Walter turned back to see the tall vampire coming out of the bathroom looking so much like a living man that Walter almost stumbled.

Elizabeth touched her bruised jaw, but nodded, "As well as can be expected. I must thank you for protecting my sister. She praised your care."

A tight smile crossed Alucard's face before he answered, "It was my pleasure."

Islands was trying, but Arthur could tell he was flinching at the destroyed wreck that was the King's most private chamber. "We're in for it, aren't we?" he asked. Islands didn't say anything, but that was answer enough for Arthur. "Let's go on and see about the ladies." He felt a need to put a positive face on it, like how the rest of the Lodge had managed to avoid much damage, but he held his tongue. Groveling could come later. They walked on in silence, the only sounds were those of servants moving about from room to room, apparently trying to figure out what had happened in their sleep. A scream filtered down the hall as the staff discovered the library.

"Let me do the talking, please Arthur," Islands hoped he could soften the punishment for his old friend. The princesses would certainly listen to their cousin? An almost contrite Hellsing nodded.

When they arrived, both men tried to collect themselves in front of a mirror before opening the door. Neither was quite happy with the result, but Arthur nodded at Islands as he gripped the doorknob, "Here goes nothing."

"Ah, cousin! I was so worried for you!" Islands crossed the damaged carpet to the sitting area where Alucard and the princess seemed to be speaking easily. Surely that was a good sign? Walter stood behind Elizabeth, his hand moving quickly off of her shoulder at the sight of the knights. Islands bowed to her, taking her hand when it was offered for a kiss. "I want to express my regret over your secretary, Ms. Bromberger."

"Sir Islands," the stiff formality in her voice expressed her displeasure. "I understand you have Jameson in custody? Tell me, will you kill him?"

"Oh," he was taken aback by her all business approach, "well, the Convention will convene a secret court and we'll see that he is tried according to the law. A decision will then be made as to--"

"I want him dead." Her eyes were pitiless.

"Ah, well. Yes and we'll most likely make that decision, but--" Islands looked to Arthur for backup as he spoke and the other knight interrupted, "Your Highness, nothing would give me more pleasure. The trial is a formality, I assure you, but it is a necessary step. If the others agree, one of my employees here will be more than happy to carry out your request." Hugh gave Arthur an odd look, but he nodded before looking to his cousin again.

"Why? What's happening to Mr. Jameson? What of Woodruff?" the sleepy voice of Princess Margaret carried into the room as she stood at her doorway, holding on to the frame. No one had heard her approach except for Alucard and he rose bowing to her. She acknowledged him with a dreamy smile.

Arthur crossed the room to offer her his arm, which she took gratefully. "My servant tells me that Woodruff is packing his belongings," he told her, "and intends to leave for a family member's home in South Africa as soon as possible. Apparently he was an unwitting accomplice this night, merely passing along information and he helped with the books, but without understanding what was going on. Jameson, though... he caught us all by surprise." He helped her sit in the space Alucard vacated for her.

"I knew it would be him, sir," all eyes turned to Walter, even Elizabeth craned her neck about to stare at him. He shifted a bit before he added, "Well, it's always the butler, sir. Isn't it?" Humour and insolence added to his smile.

Hellsing's sharp look didn't leave Walter, even after the others had enjoyed a small laugh, "Dornez, why don't you pop back to your room and grab your belongings? We'll need to get the prisoner back quickly to begin interrogation." He turned to the crown princess and the little princess in turn, "I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you ladies soon?"

Margaret blushed and looked at Alucard, but Elizabeth merely smiled a sad smile. She nodded at the men as they left and reached for her sister's hand.

Oooo0oooO

A/N

The proper protocol in addressing the royal family is with their title or ma'am/sir. The proper form for the princesses of York is "Your Highness" (not Royal Highness which is in their full title). Obviously the King and Queen are "Your Majesty," but they do not appear in this story. Most of the characters follow this except Islands, who is family, and Alucard... who is Alucard. This is pure fiction and neither the late Princess Margaret nor the still living Queen Elizabeth II ever had relations with these fictional characters that don't belong to me.

Yes, the Windsors are peculiar with relation to being touched. I dare you to prove me wrong! I think QEII has been touched, uninvited, like 3 times in public. It makes a ripple in the news (an American "She looked like she needed a hug", I think an Aussie and I'm not sure who else). Strangely, she also won't eat in public.

Hospodar is a term for a warrior king or a warlord that would have been used in Vlad Dracula's time. It is Hungarian (I think) but was used regionally for hundreds of years. As a Wallachian elite raised part of his life with the Turks and spending enough time with the Hungarians to marry one of their noblewomen, I figure he knows his way around languages. German was another major language in the region and in chapter 14 he tells his enemy (who never got a name) that her part as dying damsel was "well acted" auf Deutsch. He should know Latin as well, being a good Roman Catholic, but there wasn't a call for it in this story. Voivode is a similar Slavic term but implies being a tributary to the Ottomans, so I figured he'd have preferred the former in her day (kind of 1600-ish), but it was appropriate for the princess to refer to him as such in Ch.3 since his longest reign was established thanks to the Turks.

Boyar is the title for the aristocracy across the region where "the enemy" lived prior to her turning, setting her where I imagined Dracula would hunt. Vlad III was from the ruling prince class and his father and older brother (and the heir presumptive to their father) were killed by a boyar coalition.

In the anime and manga, Alucard seems to reject his past, until the battle and his flashbacks and show us why he is what he is.

Anything else I should comment on? No? Good. Go to bed or get back to studying. Leave a review or PM me if you like.


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